


Forecast

by setoboo



Series: Your Local Weather [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: A/B/O inspired dynamics - but not A/B/O, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, F/M, I lied - Yamamoto wants to nap and HIT PEOPLE!, M/M, Multi, Oh My God, Polyamory, Sawada Nana's A+ Parenting, Sealing a child is stupid, Thats what we have mists for, Unconventional Uses for Dying Will Flames, Why do I love this mosquito-man so much?, Yamamoto just wants to nap, and now everyone will suffer, especially Reborn, give the woman a gold star, no sarcasm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-06-24 15:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15633612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setoboo/pseuds/setoboo
Summary: Reborn is ashamed to say he won’t notice a lot of the weirdness about to happen before he is almost powerless to stop it.





	1. Forecast: Partly Cloudy

The weirdness starts out - Reborn will later realize, though it will be much, _much_ too late by then to stop it- with dame-Tsuna hunting down his Cloud Guardian to ask what had appeared, in the beginning, as a simple question.

If Reborn had been paying closer attention to said question and the _reason_ behind it, he might have been able to curb the oncoming stupidity before it happened. Nip it in the bud, one might say. However, hindsight is 20-20 and Reborn is not infallible. He does not notice the underlining conversation happening between the future Vongola Decimo and his Cloud. Doesn’t give half a second to ponder _why_ of all people Tsuna would be seeking out the temperamental prefect when he could ask the same questions of literally anyone else.

Reborn is a ashamed to say he won’t notice a lot of the weirdness about to happen before he is almost powerless to stop it.

And so, as his student once more rushes headlong into absolute bedlam. Reborn is sitting cozy in one of his many little hidey-holes. Watching Tsuna through a screen and drinking cappuccino with only thoughts of what chaos he can cause after the day’s classes pass. Blissfully unaware of the chaos already beginning in Namimori Middle School.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day is clear and bright, with only a few scattered clouds rolling lazily by to hide away the warm springtime sun. The temperature was neither too hot, nor too cold - leaving the day a nice warmth that is only enhanced by the sunshine and not exacerbated by it.

Tsuna had taken one look out of the window in his classroom and known immediately where he could find his reclusive Cloud on such a perfect day.

“I’m going to the rooftop.” He tells Hayato as soon as the bell to begin Lunch period rings.

“Ah! Of course, let me just grab my things Tenth!” Hayato agrees without question. But the way he almost winces as he reaches to grab his bag and looks a little _too_ longingly at the pocket that Tsuna knows holds a pack of cigarettes tells Tsuna more than words ever could.

Hayato stops cold when Tsuna puts a warm hand on the Storm Guardian’s closest wrist. Fingers slightly brushing over jeweled bangles and leather studded bracelets to get his attention.

“No need to follow Gokudera-kun, I need to ask Hibari-san some questions really fast. While I’m distracting him you can sneak off for a minute if you need to.” Tsuna offers with a small smile.

He doesn’t mind that Hayato smokes - it’s not like the cigarettes can kill him thanks to his Storm Flame’s disintegration property - but Hibari has very strict rules about smoking on school grounds. Which usually means that during lunch time Tsuna, Hayato, and Takeshi all find somewhere to hide out so they can eat lunch and Hayato can smoke in peace. It hardly ever goes well. Hibari usually finds them before Hayato is even halfway through his first cigarette.

“T-T-Tenth!” Hayato’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates and his lower lip wobbles a little bit. Like he can’t believe Tsuna would do something so simple as distract Hibari and let him have a quick smoke-break. “T-thats not! You-you don’t have to…”

Tsuna is growing to heavily dislike the wide-eyed reverence he gets at offering his Right-hand such simple courtesies. It makes him want to break something everytime he sees it. Something like the faces of all the people who have hurt and misused his Storm Guardian through his whole life.

However, instead of the angry scowl he wants to make he forces himself to smile. If he scowls at Gokudera the teen will think Tsuna is angry at him, and then he’ll be inconsolable for the rest of the day - convinced he’s upset the Vongola heir somehow.

“It’s okay Gokudera-kun, I really do need to talk with Hibari-san. Go take a break. I’ll be right back here once lunch is done. Okay?” He soothes the silver-haired teen, cheating just a little bit by brushing his flames against Hayato’s softly.

It’s a skill he’s only just starting to be able to use, but it’s proven amazingly useful. Especially in times like this with Hayato, who responds so eagerly to the light brushes of flame on flame. Tsuna isn’t sure how it works exactly, as this is one of those things that Reborn hasn’t bothered to mention or explain to him yet, but it is pleasant and Hayato doesn’t seem to find it weird. So it must be something normal for Flame users to be able to do. Otherwise the silver-haired bomber would have made a fuss about it at some point.

Hayato practically goes boneless in his seat, green eyes hazy with contentment. His shoulders lose their tight hunch - and best of all - that painful face of wonder and reverence that devastates Tsuna is wiped away. Replaced by a quirk of the lips and half cast eyes. He looks _happy_ , and Tsuna selfishly approves of the change.

“Yeah...That’s fine.” Hayato hums slightly, ghosting his Flames back against Tsuna’s in a way that seems almost cat-like. Brushing and twining against him looking for affection.

Tsuna laughs at the feelings - bright and warm and singing of devotion. Almost forgetting that he was supposed to be heading up to the roof instead of pulling his Storm into the reaches of his Sky Flames.

Just as Tsuna is finally pulling his Flames away from Hayato’s slowly - the slow untangling necessary so the Storm doesn’t think he’s pulling away willingly and become upset - a wash of Rain Flames surges into their warm coil. Pulls the two of them back together in the sudden torrent without hesitation. Undoing all the hard work Tsuna had been doing up to that point.

Takeshi’s laugh is easy as he leaves his seat and joins them near the back of the room. Planting his butt on Tsuna’s desk and sinking his Flames even deeper into the them. Strength and a heavy calm turning the easy brush of Sky and Storm into a small hurricane force between the three of them.

“Maa...It’s not fair to leave me out you two.” Takeshi admonishes with a bright grin. Like he is somehow unaware of his Rain Flames practically drowning the other two with the force of him. “Where are we playing hide and seek today?” The swordsman asks eagerly, his face guileless but his Flames are less than subtle. They reach and glide over the both of them with intent. The tranquility and weight of them a clear sign Takeshi would like to go and spend time with the two of them in a flame-tinged cuddle pile somewhere. It’s how they spend a number of their lunches since Takeshi learned how to fan out his own Flames.

Tsuna isn’t sure why the Rain Guardian takes such pride in turning the pair of them into sleepy goo each chance he has. He does it daily though, often multiple times a day if he can get away with it. Lunch time has become more _‘Hide from Hibari, nibble on food, and nap’_ time recently.

Tsuna swallows and weakly shoves at Takeshi with the hand not resting on Hayato’s arm. Telling him without words to calm the downpour before he pulls them under right here in the classroom. The baseball prodigy has done it twice before now, knocked him and Hayato into dream-land by accident with the force of his Rain Flame.

He had also knocked Kyoko-chan, Hana-san, and two other boys in the class out once. So it wasn’t just them in danger of being shoved into La-la-land against their will.

Takeshi’s grin takes on a contrite edge, and the deluge of Rain Flame lessens to a gentle wave. Still unmistakably there, but not a threat to overflow the room and knock them out for half an hour again. It just taps a song against the renewed tangle of Sky and Storm Flames, a constant pitter-patter of Rain. An open invitation to rest and relax temptingly mixing into the joy and devotion already present.

Tsuna has to take both his hands away from his Guardians and smack himself a couple of times in the cheeks to drag himself out of the web of song and Flame unconsciously coaxing him to fall into it.

“Maa..Maa…Sorry about that.” Takeshi apologizes, obviously only _slightly_ sorry considering how wide his grin still is. “You know I hate being left out of the fun though!”

Tsuna is about to respond when he notices Hana glaring at Takeshi with obvious wrath in her eyes. A subtle glance to the side reveals that Kyoko  is about 2 seconds away from passing out in her newly opened bento. Chopsticks loosely held in her lax fingers as she nods forward a little. Tsuna winces, and mouths a quick ‘ _Sorry!_ ’ to the dark-haired woman trying to set Takeshi on fire with her eyes alone.

He barely notices when his own Flames reach out and brush against Kyoko and Hana. The move is more instinctual then intentional - just trying to make sure they are okay after being caught up in his Rain Guardian’s flood. A flicker of sleepy Sun and vengeful Cloud greet him in return, and Tsuna’s Flame sheepishly jolts Kyoko back awake so that Hana doesn’t kill them. Kyoko jerks up immediately, and after a confused second she turns towards the Sky Flame wielder with a thankful smile on her face.

“Oops.” Takeshi laughs, seeing what his Flames had almost caused. He waves at Kyoko in apology, and is given a cheery wave in return from the girl he almost knocked unconscious.

Hana’s eyes continue to glare daggers into the baseball player’s head despite the problem being solved.

“Idiot.” Hayato snorts from his own relaxed fugue, adding a green-eyed glare and some of his own Storm Flames to the mix of infuriated Cloud Flame lashing out protectively around Kyoko and slowly filling the room. Takeshi holds up his hands in surrender, and tucks his gentle-yet-insistent Rain Flame back into himself. Which seems to be the correct thing to do as Hayato and Hana both pull back their own growing fury at the overwhelming Rain.

The room descends back into a neutral Flameless feeling, and Tsuna feels oddly bereft for it.

“Right…” Tsuna’s voice is slightly strangled, so he coughs to give himself a second to put himself back together before pushing onward. “I ah...I won’t be eating lunch with you two today. I need to speak with Hibari-san about something.”

Hayato hums in acknowledgement of what he already knows, and Takeshi nods with a smile that is just a tad _too_ accepting. The Rain Guardian’s chocolate eyes a shade darker than normal, and a wisp of Flame brushes against Tsuna that feels more like the cold grey droplets of an oncoming typhoon instead of the typical summer-shower the baseball player usually feels like. Takeshi does not like the idea at _all._

It’s Tsuna’s turn to hold his hands up in surrender - hoping to placate Takeshi before he decides ‘ _to hell with it_ ’ and knocks Tsuna out cold with his Rain Flames to keep him from hunting the moody Cloud down. Takeshi probably thinks he’s going to do something _stupid_ like bait the prefect into a fight or something else equally crazy.

The fact he’s done that particularly _stupid_ idea before is not the point. 

“I need to ask him about schools in Namimori. It shouldn’t take too long and I’ll be back in class before the period is over, I promise.” He hopes his smile and sincerity will be enough to calm the protective swordsman. Otherwise Tsuna can literally kiss himself _‘Goodnight’,_ because he is probably going to be taking an unexpected nap.

Takeshi’s Flame’s writhe slightly but Hayato comes to Tsuna’s rescue like the loyal Right-hand he is.

“Calm down, baseball-freak. It’s not like the Tenth can’t kick that moody bastard’s ass ten ways till tuesday.” Hayato snorts and stands up, snatching his backpack and stretching slightly to banish the leftover lethargy from his limbs. “Let’s go before we waste the whole period on you trying to knock everyone unconscious.”

“Hayato!” Takeshi whines, but he doesn’t really put up much fight when the silver-haired bomber grabs his arm and begins to roughly pull him out of the classroom. Obviously intent on getting his nicotine fix while he still can.

Before the door closes behind them, Tsuna feels a jolt of Storm Flame reach out and slide along his awareness. He can practically hear Hayato’s Flames ask him to _be careful_ in spite of the way the Storm Guardian had spoken like his strength was an assured thing.

Tsuna makes a mental note to thank his Storm for managing to pull Takeshi away despite his own misgivings and fears.  He will need to do something nice for them both to make-up for making them worry. Maybe a movie night or something.

Humming tunelessly, Tsuna grabs his own bento and school bag and starts to make his way out of the room. Only to be intercepted by a very irate Kurokawa Hana blocking his exit.

“Tsuna.” Her voice is as glacial as her eyes are furious. Tsuna is thankful for the small mercy that she is hissing quietly enough that the rest of the class can’t hear her. Though it is very obvious he is being blasted by the black-haired girl even if she can’t be heard.  “You better get that Baseball Monkey under control before I do it for you.”

“Hana-chan!” Kyoko admonishes from her seat, a bite of omelet hanging from her chopsticks. Tsuna isn’t sure how she can _hear_ Hana from where she is still sitting at her desk near the center of the room. Tsuna can barely hear her and he’s standing in _front_ of her. 

“Don’t Hana-chan me, Kyoko! He is becoming a menace. If you get knocked out _again_ by that idiot’s inability to control himself and needing to drown the school in his possessive little fits I’m going to have to do something drastic.” Hana is furious even as she scolds Kyoko, though Tsuna can tell the fury is not aimed at the red-haired school idol. No her venom is all aimed at Takeshi - and by association - Tsuna.

Tsuna scratches at the back of his neck uncomfortably as Hana rounds back on him. Her grey eyes narrowed to angry slits with barely leashed Cloud Flames writhing just out of sight.

“I’ll….try, Kurokawa-san. Yamamoto-kun is an all or nothing kind of guy, it’s harder for him to reign it in then for us.” Hana’s eyes are starting to turn a distinctive shade of violet that Tsuna immediately knows means bad news. He has probably 5 seconds to either calm her down or gird his loins. Because Kurokawa Hana is known for delivering some pretty devastating kicks to the groin. “B-bu-but! You are right! We’ll work on it, starting after school! I promise!”

Hana stares at him with violet-tinged eyes for a long, silent moment. Before the deathly tense atmosphere is broken by Kyoko giggling.

Both of them turn towards her with raised brows.

Kyoko waves at them abashedly, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of red. Hana raises her left eyebrow even higher and Kyoko gives into the unasked question without further prompting.

“Hana-chan always looks so cool when she gets fired-up.” Kyoko mumbles embarrassedly. Shoving the bite of omelet into her mouth so she doesn’t have to continue talking.

Hana’s face erupts into a blush, and she sends one last venomous looks at Tsuna as if to say ‘ _This is not over_ ’ before going back to her own desk next to Kyoko’s. Practically smothering the bashful girl in fond overprotective Cloud Flames that had been directed with murderous intent at Tsuna only moments ago.

Tsuna hustles out of the room without a backwards glance, feeling Hana’s possessive Flames nip at his heels and wrap themselves tighter around the Sunny beacon behind him.

He almost has to laugh at Kurokawa. She was accusing Takeshi of being possessive, but Takeshi hasn’t literally run someone out of a room with his Flames yet.

Tsuna feels bad he has to add the _‘yet’_ to his own private thoughts. It was unfortunately possible it would happen eventually. Very possible…

Once in the hallway he shakes off the lingering touch of angered Flames and begins to make his way to the school stairwell. Hoping that Hibari will be where he thinks the older teen will be for once.

He could always reach out to try and find the prefect with his Flames, but each time he’s done that all it has accomplished is summoning the Cloud to his side ready to throw down. Hibari seems to view the brief touch of Sky Flames as some sort of cry for help, and when he shows up to see that there is no emergency? Well, Hibari usually takes it upon himself to _make_ an emergency. Typically an emergency visit to the nurse’s office for blunt force trauma to the head.

So, Tsuna is more then willing to put in the extra leg work of physically tracking the dark-haired older teen down. It beats being bitten to death for taking the lazy route.

He makes it to the roof with good time. No one besides Tsuna is stupid enough to go up to the top of the school when it is off limits to everyone but the Disciplinary Committee. So it’s not like he has to fight through crowds on the stairwell.

Opening the rooftop door gives him a lungful of spring scented air, and the soft twittering of a nearby bird.

Splayed out in the middle of the roof is the Demon of Namimori. He is laying on his back, one arm across his eyes to block out the noontime sun, and the other under his head to pillow it against the concrete floor. His jacket is folded neatly beside him, and Tsuna can see the gentle rise and fall of Hibari’s chest as he naps the lunch period away.

Nested very comfortably in Hibari’s hair is a tiny yellow canary, singing what could only be the school anthem as a sort of odd lullaby for the napping Cloud.

Tsuna immediately feels like it might be a better, _and safer_ , option to just turn around and go back down the stairs very quietly. Waking Hibari is always a gamble, and Tsuna’s notoriously bad luck means he is a _very_ poor gambler.

“What do you want.” Hibari’s sleep roughened voice suddenly breaks Tsuna out of his mildly panicked fugue.

Hibari hasn’t moved a single inch to show he’s woken up, but Tsuna feels Cloud Flames surge around him momentarily before pulling away just as fast. The prefect does it often enough that it isn’t a shock anymore. It’s his way of...testing the air. Kind of like a snake. He is just reaching out to make sure the person in front of him is actually who he thinks it is. Making sure there is no threat to him or his territory before allowing himself to relax.

“Umm...It’s springtime, and I know you don’t like answering a lot of questions but I wanted your opinion on somethings that I’ve been looking int-…” Tsuna starts to rapidly explain but Hibari’s Flames lash out against him in annoyance. An obvious _‘Get to the Point!’_ that Tsuna finds himself giving into without much fight. He had planned a whole argument to try and convince Hibari to answer his questions, but he should have known it would be pointless to try that routine. When has Hibari ever reacted positively to the long-winded option?

“I want to know what are the best elementary schools in Namimori.” Tsuna finally asks. Eyes slightly amber colored in the noontime sun.

Hibari slowly moves at the question, his Flames sliding off Tsuna in a rolling wave to return to the Cloud Guardian as he sits up. Hibird chirps a disgruntled note and flies off the prefect’s head, instead landing on the folded jacket so he can continue to warble the school anthem uninterrupted.

“The best?” The prefect’s sleepy voice holds an interested note. Though his face remains placid as he looks Tsuna up and down with half-lidded grey eyes.

Tsuna knows he has the older teen hooked immediately. Talking about schools, especially Namimori Schools, is Hibari Kyoya’s weakness. It’s right up there with cute animals and Sakura Trees.

“The safest. The highest averages. The best.” He tries to explain, but it isn’t the answer to Hibari’s question. 

It doesn’t matter that his words fail him, the real answer is obvious even without having been said. It flows between his Sky Flames and the small edge of Cloud Flame he is allowed to touch. Bounces between them in a nonverbal plea.

_‘Where have you made safe, my Cloud? Where do you trust so that I can trust it too?’_

Hibari hums at the answer - both the spoken and the unspoken.

Tsuna is rewarded by the Cloud’s Flames moving closer. They skitter across his own Flames and never stay still long enough for him to twine around like he does with Hayato and Takeshi, but this is nice in it’s own way. Hibari is in control of how much he wants, how much he is willing to take from Tsuna. All Tsuna has to do is sit back and let the Cloud wander as he pleases. It is a rare enough pleasure to be allowed to touch at all - he won’t threaten it by trying to take more then is offered.

“That would depend on your preferences.” Hibari finally answers, voice slow as he thinks about the question in depth.

Tsuna reaches into his backpack and after a moment of fruitless shuffling finds a folded sheet of paper he had tucked in there for this one specific purpose.

He nudges against the Cloud Flames, asking to come closer - and in return gets a huff from the prefect who holds out his hand in demand for the paper obviously meant for him. Tsuna beams and has to practically stop himself from skipping the 5 feet from the door to Hibari’s side. Hibari’s unamused face tells Tsuna he knows what the Vongola heir had been about to do.

“I just want to know...I..I don’t...uhg this is hard to put into words.” Tsuna is forced to admit, he is used to being a stuttering mess about everything in his life. But this is one of the few times he knows what he _wants_ to say, he just doesn't have a way of _saying it_. Doesn’t think there are words in Japanese, or English, or hell even Italian to convey what he is trying to ask of Hibari.

Hibari doesn’t seem to mind terribly though. He snatches Tsuna’s folded paper and pulls a red ink pen from his pants pocket. Grey eyes intent on the dozen or so names written neatly on pale paper.

There is a spike of confusion after a moment of scanning the list, and Hibari even goes out of his way to ask his own question - though it sounds more like a demand then a question in truth.

“Kizu in Kokuyo and Taisen in Yotoku?” He asks with a detached tone. However the disinterest is mostly false as violet-colored Cloud Flames writhe and blister with agitation and accusation under the surface.

_‘Not my territory, not mine. Why,_ **_why?_ ** _’_

“I wasn’t sure how far out was fine. I didn’t want to miss any potential schools.” Tsuna replies to the spoken question, but it is his flames that soothe the blunt edge of what almost feels like betrayal looming in the Clouds.

_‘I did not know how far you roamed, I do not know what is yours. Tell me where it is safe.’_

Hibari crosses the out of town schools off with vicious strikes of red ink. Going over Kizu Elementary in Kokuyo twice over as if the very city itself offends him on a spiritual level. Come to think of it, it probably does…

The other school names don’t seem inspire the same wrath, and Tsuna rolls the dice of fate by sitting down beside Hibari’s still slightly reclined form. He is well within easy striking distance of a tonfa if this goes wrong somehow.

Hibari lashes out against him, though not with his tonfas. Instead, heavy Cloud Flames puts intense pressure on him for a moment before drifting away. it doesn’t hurt amazingly. More startles him than anything, and that is surprisingly all the punishment the Vongola heir receives for taking the liberty of coming so close. It is almost _friendly_ , if Tsuna would dare to call it that.

He doesn’t dare to call it that.

“Where did you go to school Hibari-san?” Tsuna asks mildly like he is only making polite conversation, but It is a loaded question in truth. Not in a cruel way - but it will answer a lot of what Tsuna wants to know.

Hibari’s answer is bored but immediate. “Namimori Central Elementary for the first three years. Kitayama Private for the rest.”

_‘I sharpened my fangs on one, and ruled the other. They are mine.’_ Is what Tsuna hears in the space between their words. Though he might be wrong that he hears something like fondness for Kitayama in Hibari’s real voice and not the Cloudy song that murmurs as it passes by.

“Kitayama is very highly recommended. Though tough to get into. It has a painfully long waiting list from what I read.” Tsuna’s response sounds almost flippant to anyone who might be listening, but he can’t stop his Sky Flames from crying out what he truly needs to know.

_‘Is it worth the trouble? Is it what I’m looking for? Safe and right and yours?’_

Hibari makes a disinterested _‘Hn’_ noise. However he puts a tiny red check next to the name of Kitayama Private Elementary - as good as a gold star of approval by the violent prefect’s standards.

He doesn’t stop at just that one school though, obviously unwilling to show too much preference to his own elementary school when the list encompases all of Namimori - which in a way makes _all_ these schools his.

He scratches out two more name with little thought. Himeji Elementary goes first without a word - it is not disliked, but it is also not favored. Too far towards the edge of his territory and has students who also live in Yotoku attending. Outsiders make it unsafe.

Namimori Central Elementary is also crossed off with no pause despite Hibari having gone there himself. Hibari’s Cloud song sings of safety issues - old and worn. The oldest school still standing in the city but lacking the upkeep needed to keep it going. It is an ugly sore on Hibari’s territory - it will either be fixed soon or demolished. The prefect will make sure of it.

Out of twelve possible schools, four have been cut down immediately and one has solid approval. Tsuna waits with more patience than anyone _(Reborn)_ might expect of him as Hibari combs the whole list and slowly whittled it down.

“I went to Shigo.” Tsuna murmurs quietly when Hibari gets to the name that had been added with some hesitance. He doesn’t have good memories of the school himself, but he knows that does not mean the whole school itself is bad. Being dame-Tsuna simply meant that he has seen the cruel side of children - a side that would be at any school no matter what he hopes to avoid. Other than his own memories, Shigo Elementary has much of what he is looking for in a school. Closely located to home, centrally located in the city, well reviewed staff, some extra curricular activities. It is a good school.

He just...doesn’t like it.

The Cloud’s Flame twist in a terrifying way for a moment - almost like when Hibari plans to lash out and they go from lazy wandering to a vicious cyclone in seconds. The almost tornado spins with fury for an instant before dissipating back into the gliding purple that barely brushes against his Sky Flames. That one second is all Tsuna needs though because the vote on Shigo is a loud and clear _no_.

_‘You feel unsafe, I will bring them to heel.’_ Hibari’s Flames promise darkly.

Tsuna can’t help but smile a little in relief as the obvious choice is removed from the page with three cruel red lines. One more then Kizu in Kokuyo had earned.

Five schools are gone, and Tsuna breathes easier with each one. Feels a knot coming undone as the Cloud cuts down those that are useless and unsafe and only leaves places he protects to remain.

Hibari huffs and taps the paper with his pen, the capped end hitting on a name with intent. An obvious question in grey eyes.

_‘Rikujita?’_

Tsuna understand the resistance in Hibari’s eyes at the school being on the list. It had been in the news for some _less than savory_ reasons recently. One of those _reasons_ being the unproven murder of the principle at the hands of the notorious Demon of Namimori himself.

Rumor has it the principle was a very sick man, with a sicker interest in the children of his school. Nothing had ever been proven - except for a corruption and money laundering scheme taking place behind closed doors to skim money from the school funds - but Hibari had taken the personal liberty of removing the Principle from his office, and then removing him from the rest of the world _permanently_.

Tsuna doesn’t personally approve of the school, nor the manner in which the school’s problems were handled, but…

_‘If you have made it safe, my Cloud, I will accept it. It is your territory, and you - I trust.’_

Hibari stares at the name for a long moment, rolling the red pen between his fingers as he thinks hard. Finally, hesitantly, he makes a small check beside the name.

_‘It is safe. I know it is. I do not like it. Safe, but wasn’t safe enough. Next time I will burn it all and start again.’_ Tsuna feels the Cloud Flame pull in two different directions. Angry at what happened, but proud that the perpetrator has been dealt with. Conflicted in his resolution.

Tsuna doesn’t bother to comment. He is leaving this to his Cloud. If Hibari says the school is safe then it is safe. The fact he wandered in and murdered the man in charge a testament to the Skylark’s control of his territory. Whoever Hibari has put in place likely answers directly to the DC chairman, meaning Rikujita is firmly in Hibari’s hands from the top down.

Tsuna doesn’t have to like the way it was gone about, he just wants safety and security.

More names get crossed off with absent minded motions. Momoyumi is located in Yakuza territory, and even though the Yakuza in Namimori are all firmly in the Hibari Clan’s clutches that doesn’t make it 100% safe. Omata is crossed off for subpar averages. The elementary drags the whole city down and Hibari has been meaning to rectify that at some point. Takeda Private is overblown for the price, and may also be involved in skimming money - so until Hibari investigates that fully. The school is a no.

In the end it comes down to two.

Kitayama Private - it is a school that is firmly in Hibari’s control, and one of the few that lives up to his stringent standards. He still has claws dug deep in the very fabric of the academy from the many years of him ruling it. Not to mention, It has excellent grade averages every year, is located within walking distance of Tsuna’s house, and every review he’s read about the place is the same. -  It’s amazing, and it’s full. - Move your hopes elsewhere.

Or Rikujita Elementary - The school is also Hibari’s, but won through blood more then working his way to the top of the food chain. The scandal and fear surrounding the place mean many parents will hesitate to enroll their children there in the upcoming school year. Leaving the school easy to gain entry, closer to home then Kitayama is, and less expensive since it is a public school.

Tsuna knows which he would prefer, he also knows which is more likely.

“How many?” Hibari startles him by asking aloud when they have been conversing only through Flame and intention for so long. Grey eyes dark as he finally hands the red ink-covered paper back to Tsuna’s slightly shaking hands.

It takes Tsuna a half moment too long to understand what his Guardian is asking, but he shakes his head and answers regardless once he figures it out. “Three all together. Two in first grade. One in fourth.”

For a second Tsuna feels like he’s being smothered. Hibari’s Flames wrap around him in an almost suffocating blanket. It is heavy, possessive, and powerful. But the moment is over as soon as it starts, and the dense Cloud Flame disperses as if it had never been there.

If Tsuna was the idiot everyone accused him of being his whole life, he might have said that was Hibari’s attempt at a hug. Despite the overwhelming force behind it and the lack of being able to respond. A hug was probably the best descriptor available.

Tsuna is thankfully _not_ a complete idiot anymore, and has enough self preservation to not call it anything resembling a hug. Even if it leaves him breathless and warm and just a tiny bit desperate to have the Cloud back in his Sky instead of skirting the edges. Hungry for Hibari to come home and _stay_. That is a pipe-dream though, and if Hibari knew what Tsuna was feeling he would probably pull out the tonfa at breakneck speed.                  

The steadily growing distance between them dims the Skylark’s Cloud Flame as he drifts away once more. Leaving Tsuna empty and bereft, but with a silent promise between them.

_‘I will take care of this for you, my Sky. Only for you.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hibari kills a man and Tsuna is just like "A'ight man, you do you. BTW do you recommend any local schools to my mafia children?"
> 
> This fic is too long for me to read over for errors. Lemme know if you find any. I'mma go eat pizza and watch Only in Japan episodes. Livin' the dream my dudes.
> 
> In the next chapter; Reborn makes the whole situation worse! What fun!


	2. Forecast: Short-Fuse Warning

Reborn’s second chance to notice the oncoming insanity is also overlooked, despite it happening literally in front of him.

He will admit that his own choice to ignore anything and _everything_ having to do with the Bovino-brat is what causes the oversite. Though that doesn’t make it sting less when he will finally realizes what is happening. Especially once he figures out he _sort of_ caused part of the problem he is going to have to combat later.

If he had paid just a tad more attention to the lives of the young children that live in Tsuna’s house, the world’s number one hitman might not have been so blind-sided later. Because in hindsight it was painfully obvious what Tsuna was about to start doing - and if Reborn had been watching his student and not zoning out to ignore the cow-child’s annoying existence, he would have probably picked up on the change immediately.

But again, Reborn doesn’t notice. Which adds one more nail to the coffin that he is going to have to try and pry back open later to try fix the whole mess.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Tsuna waves at Hayato and Takeshi as he lets his Left and Right hands go while he heads to his house. They’ll be back in a little bit, but Hayato is apparently out of cigarettes and Takeshi wants to check in with his Dad before they drop back by for what will likely become another _unintended_ sleepover thanks to Takeshi leaking Rain Flame everywhere and Tsuna being an enabler and letting it happen over and over.

He’s seen Hayato’s apartment and the less said about it the better, okay? It’s preferable for everyone involved that the Silver-haired bomber stays at his house no matter how slightly underhanded it feels to use Takeshi and his own Sky Flames to knock Hayato into slumber each night. It’s just….better this way.

“I’m home!” Tsuna calls as he steps past the threshold of his house, removing his shoes with enough speed to make even Reborn proud because he has maybe about four seconds before...

“Tsuna-nii!”

Tsuna braces himself as soon as he hears the voice, and drops his shoes to the floor with a clatter so his hands are free to catch the excited five-year old throwing himself into the Vongola heir’s arms. Tsuna can’t stop the quiet grunt he makes when Lambo hits him almost dead on in the stomach in his eagerness.

He ignores the small pain in his midsection and hefts the cow-print clad child higher into his arms to give Lambo a proper hug in return. Smiling when he feels small arms wrap around his neck and squeeze back with obvious delight.

“Good afternoon Lambo, how have you been all day.” Tsuna asks once Lambo finally stops his chokehold disguised as a hug and lets the brunette go so he can breath.

Lambo opens his mouth, obviously about to start rambling about _every single thing_ he has done all day - only to be interrupted by another voice.

“ _Gege_ , welcome home.”

Tsuna smiles down at I-pin where she is standing by his leg. Seemingly having materialized out of thin air for how quiet her arrival was in comparison to Lambo’s. Tsuna is just thankful that she doesn’t seem to be trying to throw herself into his stomach as well today. Sometimes she does, especially if she and Lambo have been fighting all day, but it is certainly rarer then Lambo’s daily tackles.

“Glad to be home, thank you I-pin.” He answers the little girl happily. Lambo wiggles in his arms, obvious growing upset at being ignored when he had already geared himself up to tell Tsuna _all_ about his day while the brunette was away at school.

Tsuna barely thinks about what he does in response to the obvious unhappy feelings pouring from the tiny Lightening Guardian. His movements more instinct than pre-planned actions.

Just as Lambo opens his mouth, probably to start yelling at I-pin for interrupting him, Tsuna hums softly at the boy. Using the arm not supporting the small italian child’s bottom to stroke down his spine with Sky Flame tinged fingertips. Wrapping the wild energy of Lambo’s own Flame into a comforting blanket of his harmony and halting the altercation before it even starts.

Lambo’s Lightning Flame twists in delight at the offered comfort and happily bounces within the confines of the Sky surrounding him without a second thought. Lambo _loves_ to be wrapped in Tsuna’s Flames the Vongola heir has discovered. It has become almost second nature now to draw the cow-dressed child into the open reaches of his Sky.

Tsuna also has to admit it helps soothe something inside himself as well to have a constant connection with the tiny Guardian while at home. Eases something primal and terrified inside that he tries to ignore while away at school. A little voice in the back of his head that is constantly crying and reaching for the connection of the young children he has taken into his home and heart. Always scared that something will happen because he can’t _feel_ them.

It is only the Intuition that is part of his bloodline that gets Tsuna through each day since he learned how to fan out his Flames. His Sky Flame constantly writhes for connection, convinced something is wrong at the emptiness from those who should be sheltered within him - but his brain, his intuition, tells him that everything is fine and safe. The children are at home and outside his current reach, not gone. Not dead.

The disconnect is becoming harder to handle each day though.

But it’s okay for now, because he is home and he can always draw them into his Flames with them close by.

I-pin looks on at the two above her, and Tsuna can feel her own discontent rising as Lambo is swaddled in warmth and joy without her.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes quickly - not wanting to offend the little girl or make her think he is picking Lambo over her. Tsuna is quick to lean down and pluck her into his arms as well. Moving Lambo so he has room to comfortably carry them both.

Lambo grumbles but doesn’t fight it, though he does wrap his fists into Tsuna’s school sweater-vest in a tiny show of possession. I-pin doesn’t acknowledge the Bovino child’s move, instead moving herself to a spot she is agreeable to and then happily sinking into the open Flames waiting for her.

Tsuna finds the little girls Flames absolutely enthralling each time they touch. They mainly feel like Storm flames, but different enough to always make him wonder if she has another inactive Flame below the surface. I-pin’s strength is already considerable either way, as she stands calm in the eye of a hurricane that constantly howls around her, unfearful of the power in her but only barely keeping up with the swirling winds nipping at her heels. It is humbling to see her containing such raw power in her tiny little body, humbling and a little scary.

He takes it upon himself to soothe some of the gale down every time he can. He can’t stop it, he knows that, but he can make the Storm slow some as she finds harbor in his Sky Flames.

Lambo finally can’t take any more of being quiet it seems, and begins a long story about his day at home. Starting from breakfast and working his way from there. I-pin is content in Tsuna’s arms, but corrects the other child often when he makes wild claims or just straight up lies about things that didn’t happen. Tsuna lets the chatter go on, humming or asking questions when appropriate - he will guilty admit he doesn’t always listen to Lambo’s daily rambles with his full attention. Usually more interested in weaving his Flames in playful patterns around the two children as their own Flames respond in kind to him.

Tsuna is half listening to Lambo sing a new song he made up today while helping Mama fold the laundry when he enters the living room and spots a familiar head of dirty blonde hair sitting curled up on the couch with a book nearly the same size as his body.

Fuuta’s hazel eyes are slightly hazy, and considering that his ranking book is wide open he has probably been consulting the planets about something again.

Fuuta blinks in Tsuna’s general direction for a moment before he seems to actually notice that someone is in front of him. He makes a surprised noise in his throat, but smiles widely when he finally realizes who it is.

“Ah! Welcome home, Tsuna-nii!” Fuuta greets him eagerly, scrambling off the couch with his book clutched against his chest even as he scampers to stand in front of the brunette. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you.”

If Tsuna had a free hand he would have patted the older child on the head. Instead he lets his Flame reach out and brush against Fuuta in invitation, offering to let the boy join the other two in his Sky if he chooses to in lieu of physical affection.

Fuuta’s grins and dives his own strange Flames into the Sky’s without hesitation.

Tsuna will admit Fuuta’s Flames had scared the living daylights out of him at first. They feel too big to fit inside the Ranking Prince’s body. Dark and cold and endlessly looming when drawn into the folds of his own bright Flames.

It had taken a couple of times of _forcing_ himself to accept the alien feeling Flames into his own Harmony before he began to notice the similarities instead of the oddities. Things like the reach of their Flames being similar in size, the pull open and wide in a way few other Flames had ever felt like. The darkness inside Fuuta’s Flames wasn’t malicious either, just simply...dark. Almost like a cold winter night.

While Tsuna has never said anything to either Fuuta or Reborn about the Ranking Prince’s Flames. Tsuna is starting to think they may be some variation of Sky Flames.

He has started to mentally call them Night-Sky Flames. The void of space visible in the sky as the earth rotates away from the sun. The planets and stars decorating the heavens and granting their beauty to it instead of clouds and rain and storms.

He doesn’t think he’ll make a point to mention the theory to anyone unless they ask. It just makes him feel better about drawing such odd feeling Flames into his own Harmony.

But Fuuta is harmless, and he loves them all. It is obvious in every brush of almost midnight colored Flame. He loves his new family so much, and adores being pulled into Tsuna’s Harmony almost as much as Lambo does.

He is just a child desperate to belong and be loved like any other, and that knowledge makes it easy to allow Fuuta to join the bubble of Sky, Lightning, and Storm Flames without pause. Let’s him slot into place even though Tsuna feels like he had to stretch himself impossibly wide to cast his net over Fuuta and draw him in. A Sky trying to hold the breadth of another Sky inside himself.

It was borderline painful the first time. Now, the ache is more like working a sore muscle. Each repetition it is a little easier and Tsuna worries less and less about it each day. Knows that eventually he will be able to fold Fuuta’s Night-Sky inside himself with the same ease Lambo and I-pin click into place.

He looks forward to it.

“Ah! I almost forgot!” Fuuta gasps as he remembers what he had been doing before Tsuna appeared in the living room. “I have finished consulting the ranking planet for the best destination in Namimori for Cakes!” The hazel-eyed child practically bounces in front of Tsuna as he shares his newly acquired knowledge. “The results are mixed depending on flavor - but I took the time to rank as many flavors as I could think of Tsuna-nii!”

“Fuuta!” Tsuna can’t help the surprised noise he makes at the boys words. “I didn’t mean you had to rank the cake shops. I just meant for you to look it up on the computer or ask Mama.”

Fuuta deflates immediately at Tsuna’s words, which was not the teenagers intentions at all. Tsune quickly shuffles I-pin onto his shoulder, which she easily goes with, so he has a free hand and can ruffle the dirty blond hair in front of him.

Fuuta doesn’t look up until Tsuna uses his free hand to cup the younger boy’s cheek gently and guide his disheartened eyes back to looking at him.

“I’m sorry Fuuta, I didn’t mean for it to sounds like I was unhappy. I just...I want you to know that I don’t want to abuse your abilities, okay? Don’t think I asked you to look up cake shops just because you can rank them for me.”

Fuuta’s hazel eyes have a suspicious sheen, and Tsuna knows he is right to confront this now instead of letting it fester. He should have realized Fuuta would misunderstand his request from breakfast and think Tsuna wanted _rankings._

“Then...what did you mean?” Fuuta’s question is barely audible, and he is almost white-knuckled where he is gripping the book in his hands.

“Well, you are the oldest of you guys.” Tsuna states it plainly. “I figured you would like to be involved in planning the party a little bit. I’m sorry I made you feel like I wanted rankings.”

The suspicious sheen in Fuuta’s eyes clear away immediately and with a sniffle, the nine year old throws himself at Tsuna and unintentionally knocks the breath out of the teen for a second time in less than 10 minutes as he hugs the brunette within an inch of his life. Lambo squawks as he gets knocked around some, and I-pin grabs a handful of Tsuna’s hair to keep her balance on his shoulder. Which is not a pleasant feeling either.

Tsuna winces in pain, but doesn’t push any of the children off him. Letting Fuuta hug him a tad too tightly around his waist and I-pin settle herself back on his shoulder. Lambo is starting to wiggle in an obvious want to be put down.

Tsuna’s Flames are finally content for the moment though. Happy with the physical contact and the way he can feel all the young children wrapped within himself. He doesn’t want to push Fuuta off even though it’s getting hard to breath, or put Lambo down, or even ask I-pin to _please_ let go of his hair. He is happy to stand right here in pain just to keep the moment a little longer.

Which is exactly why his happiness is ruined by his intuition screaming to **_move_ ** as a bullet goes whizzing by.

Tsuna launches himself sideways, and the bullet flies dangerously close to Lambo’s surprised face instead of through Tsuna’s chest.

He barely notices what is happening, his body moving without his conscious thought. In between one breath and the next Tsuna physically throws the three children hanging off him behind the couch and kicks the corner of the sofa to move it into a better position to protect the trio. The bullets are coming from the kitchen - the trajectory and his intuition tells him that much - meaning the couch is the closest cover for his children to hide behind. Tsuna ducks and doesn’t manage to completely avoid the second bullet that flies by and nicks his left ear. His attention a touch too intent on saving Fuuta, Lambo, and I-pin and not himself. The bullet digs into the wall above the couch instead of his head though, so he counts it as a win.

Fuuta and Lambo scream in unison as two more gunshots follow the second bullet. One burying into the wall above the couch, and the other getting stopped by the wooden supports of the sofa in front of them. Tsuna dodges these bullets easily, and doesn’t let the blood oozing from the gash on his ear distract him from spinning around to face the kitchen doorway, ready to defend his own with rage and Flame. Eyes turning a furious amber shade and and an orange Flame seconds away from bursting to life on his forehead.

His protective fury abates when he finally lays eyes on his assailant. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen is Reborn. His face a mask of innocence in spite of the _literal_ smoking gun in his hand. The gun in question quickly reverts back to Leon who flicks his tongue out at Tsuna. “Ciaossu, dame-Tsuna. Your reflexes need some more work it seems. The second bullet grazed you.”

“You could have hit Lambo with that first shot!” Tsuna spits back immediately. He is furiously angry, make no mistake. The threat might have only been one of his tutor’s tests of reflexes - but it doesn’t stop the anger that Reborn had shot at him while he was holding onto _children._

There is a part of him that seethes darkly at that. The same part that constantly cries out for the children to be connected to him always. This is what he constantly fears. Him not being home to keep them safe. The trio unprotected from those that would hurt them and Tsuna unaware of their suffering.

Tsuna can trust Reborn not to kill him, he has to be alive to become Decimo obviously. But the children...

Well, his tutor is ruthless enough that he might not mind if someone gets seriously hurt in the crossfire of his spartan training. Especially if that someone is Lambo Bovino.

So yes, he trusts Reborn with himself - but not so much with the kids.

“A tragedy.” The tiny hitman deadpans in response to Tsuna’s complaint. But his lips pull up into a slight grin at the corners, telling what his true feelings are towards the idea.

Tsuna almost can’t stop himself from lunging at Reborn for the flippancy towards Lambo’s life. He feels the burning of his Flames wanting to burst to life again. Sky Flames chanting _‘Threat! Threat!_ **_Threat!’_ ** and demanding he move. Demands he fight and remove the danger to his own. _Kill it, before it kills them._

Vongola Intuition fights back against the thought immediately, tells him that he can’t win against this threat. Won’t be able to stop Reborn and he will die for the trouble. Safer to retreat for now then to retaliate. Reborn won’t shoot again unless provoked. He could take the children elsewhere. Find a safer place to den and-

Tsuna’s conflicting thoughts are stopped cold by Lambo’s voice.

“You will pay for attacking the great Lambo-san!” The black-haired child yells from behind Tsuna. “Die, Reborn!”

The cow-print wearing boy has climbed on top of the sofa - Unminding of the bullet holes in the frame making it less sturdy then it had been a minute ago - and in his hands are a pair of hot pink grenades. Pins pulled.

Reborn scoffs and doesn’t even move as Lambo throws the grenades towards the kitchen doorway. Seemingly content to let the pink incendiaries come flying towards him. But the spark of dark amusement in his coal eyes makes both sides of Tsuna scream in distress. Intuition and past experience tells him that Reborn is going to lob the grenades back at the last second and let the Bovino child get caught in the explosion.

Tsuna doesn’t even think about it - let’s his body move as it needs to and snatches Lambo’s grenades out of mid-air.

His Flames reach out to I-pin and begs the girl to help him. She is swift, his little Storm, and he knows she can do what he needs in the short moment he has.

To the outside observer it would look like I-pin had simply read the battle and reacted. Rushed to the living room’s sliding glass doors and shoved one glass pane out of the way because _obviously_ Tsuna would try and throw the grenades outside. Like always happens when one of the two youngest caused something to start detonating inside. No one would ever guess that she was being guided by the Sky’s Will. Allowing her movements to be urgently steered by the warm Flames that shelter her.

Tsuna throws the pair of grenades out of the house as hard as he can in a pitch that would make even Takeshi proud. The pink incendiaries blowing just moments after clearing the porch and taking a bush in the yard out in the process. A small crater joining the other blast-holes that litter the front yard from similar events.

The Vongola heir whips around as soon as the explosions pass, and pins Lambo with an amber-eyed _look._

Lambo makes a loud _‘eep!_ ’ and jumps off the couch. Racing up the stairs to escape the punishment those eyes promise. Lambo’s Lightning Flames wobble and cry under the heavy disapproval pushing on him, but he doesn’t pull them out of the Sky’s hold even as he disappears to the second floor. Taking comfort from the Sky’s Flames even as he avoids the disciplining those same Flames promise.

“Stupid Broccoli-head!” I-pin cries out from her spot at the open door. Jumping into action to chase the retreating boy and drag him back to face justice for almost blowing holes in the house again.

Tsuna let’s the rage and fear flow out of him in a rush. Putting his head into his hands to gather himself together. He let’s I-pin go to chase down Lambo without a word. Too busy taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out to admonish either of them. He forces himself to calm down. Makes himself acknowledge that he can’t be fully mad at Lambo this time.

Lambo might be only five but he has strong Guardian instincts. His Lightning Flames seek to please and protect, just like the boy himself. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Tsuna’s own frightened fury had driven the little boy to lash out at what the Sky Flames wrapped around him screamed was a threat. He was just trying to protect them in his own blundering way. Even if he should have been doing the smart thing and staying hidden while Tsuna dealt with the threat. Not putting himself further into harm's way.

He is _so_ not getting dessert tonight.

“Tsuna-nii?”

Tsuna lets his hands drop and looks in the direction of the damaged couch and towards the voice calling him. Fuuta is pale and just peeking over the cushions. Hazel eyes wide and frightened.

Tsuna is horrified to realize this is the first time the Ranking Prince has been caught up in one of Reborn’s surprise ambushes. It is always I-pin and Lambo around for the agent of chaos’ sadistic entertainment sessions. The oldest of the Trio is typically doing his own thing in the children’s room or hanging out with Mama during Reborn’s training.

“Fuuta…” He trails off, unsure what he can say to the scared boy.

The Night-Sky Flames inside his grasp are tinged with fear. Turning the already cold Flames to a frigid temperature. The unforgiving void of space diving deeper into his Sky Flames for comfort, and Tsuna is helpless to do anything except curl tighter around him and offer what he can. Even as he feels like he is splitting at the seems to hold the bitterly cold Flames closer then he already had been. He has only _just_ become able to fit Fuuta’s endless span inside himself. There is actual pain in trying to wrap any tighter around the terrified child.

Tsuna has to fight the impulse to push Fuuta’s Night-Sky out of his grasp for the first time in weeks. That growling instinctual _thing_ in the back of his head that wars with his intuition tells him in cruel whispers that Fuuta is a danger to the order of his world. Fuuta is a Sky and not of Tsuna’s blood. He is already strong and growing stronger by the day. Eventually the boy will need his own territory to call home and he might try and take Tsuna’s from him for this show of weakness.

Tsuna tells the stupid _thing_ to shut up. Fuuta is _his_ and he isn’t going to let go of the boy just because some lizard hindbrain can’t understand that.

The _thing_ backs down at that, because it understands possession. Understands that Fuuta is theirs even though he is considered dangerous. The feeling quiets down enough that Tsuna is able to concentrate on the world around him instead of inside his head.

The brunette steps closer to the sofa and shoves it away from the angle he kicked it into, making enough room for Fuuta to shakily step out from the improvised cover and closer to Tsuna. He offers the Ranking Prince a hand to steady him, and it is readily taken. Hazel eyes still wide and scared look to Tsuna for direction. Unsure what to do in the aftermath of bullets and explosions.

“Can you head upstairs and make sure I-pin and Lambo don’t tear everything up?” He gently asks the boy. Mindful of the small tremor in Fuuta’s hand.

His Sky Flames murmur the truth of his request into the cold Flames burrowed within. _‘Go and keep them upstairs, hide while I deal with this.’_

The Night-Sky Flames lose their arctic chill as relief flows through Fuuta. Warming back up to the winter-like coldness Tsuna has come to expect. The change in temperature eases some of the ache in his own Flames, and while it is still painful to be curled around Fuuta so tightly, it is not quite the same level of agony now.

“S-sure. I can do-do that!” Fuuta stutters, before taking one look at Reborn still standing in the doorway and making his own break for the limited safety of the second floor.

Both Reborn and Tsuna watch the dirty-blond haired boy disappear up the stairs before turning back to each other.

“You’re too soft on them.”

Tsuna frowns at his tutor before shaking his head. Too tired to fight the tiny-hitman about this. About anything really. Not when his Flames writhe and cry for him to make Reborn leave but Intuition forces him to acknowledge that feat is impossible. He feels trapped in a space he should feel safe and it’s starting to drain at him.

“Someone should be, Reborn. They’re children.” Is all he manages to say in response. Pushing himself away from the bullet-splintered couch and towards the sliding glass door. Closing it quietly and ignoring the smoking crater that taunts him with its existence.

He turns away from the door and begins walking towards the stairs. Intent on joining the flurry of Flames he feels coming from the children’s room until his own Flames calm down, or Hayato and Takeshi show up to _make_ him calm down.

He could use a Rain-induced nap right about now.

Tsuna doesn’t even turn around to glare at Reborn as he dodges another bullet that goes whizzing past his head. Just huffs an annoyed breath and willfully ignores the amused snort that comes from his tutor.

He is going to need a Rain-induced _coma_ at this rate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tsuna walks up in the house, hugs his babies, almost murders Reborn. You know, typical day.
> 
> Lotta' fun head-cannon in this chapter. My baby I-pin is a Storm obvs, but I also think she might have some Lightning traits to help her survive her own explosive ability. Double the Boom! Fuuta is a damned mystery and I ended up hand-waving that my boy is a funky rare offshoot of Sky Flames. It makes it more fun for the story anyways since Tsuna is conflicted about sharing his space with a 'rival'. Lambo will be played with more later, but I wanted it to be obvious that Tsuna can influence those around him both intentionally and unintentionally. Lambo is exceptionally easy to influence because he is always trying to impress his Onii-san~ 
> 
> Please let me know about any errors, and review. I'mma go back to work and cry over Legos.
> 
>  **In the next chapter;** Hayato gets his cigarettes and a kiss. Takeshi is not totally all there and beats some people into the dirt. He gets a kiss too though, so it's okay.


	3. Forecast: Scattered Showers

Most - if not all - of the problems in Reborn’s life can all be narrowed down to one thing. That one thing being the _stupid_ _pacifier_ around his neck.

If he had been any normal Flame Active person on Earth he would have noticed something was going on as soon as he got within a hundred feet of dame-Tsuna. Maybe two-hundred feet, because the Vongola heir was not messing around with the Sky Flame output.

Unfortunately, Reborn is no longer a normal Flame user and hanging around his neck is a cursed object that actively absorbs not only _his_ Flames but also the Flames of anybody around him that gets too close. Including his stupid student who is practically _pouring_ Sky Flames out at an alarming rate.

The Flame absorbing pacifier means that Reborn gets to live with other people’s Flames being nearly useless on him. Which has been helpful when he is performing a hit and Mist users can’t mind-whammy him. Or a Rain can’t pacify him. There are benefits to being essentially Flame-Void in his typical line of work.

But for being a _tutor?_

It is _not_ so helpful when he can’t feel Tsuna’s Flames starting to ramp up in a very telling way. Because without that feeling as context, everything else just flys over his head.

He completely misses the implications when Gokudera and Yamamoto practically move in. Easily blaming it on dame-Tsuna finally discovering where the silver-haired bomber has been living for the past year. The ramshackled apartment building the Right-hand barely affords on his meager savings seems to offend his student’s sensibilities. Driving the Vongola heir to subtly manipulate his Storm into staying at his house night after night. It’s not odd for Tsuna to offer his home up to the other boy. His student is just stupidly nice like that, and It’s not like it’s the first time Tsuna has brought a stray home - it’s just the first time he’s done it so _underhandedly._

Yamamoto is hardly worth considering either, his obvious crush on the Storm Guardian makes Reborn snort and turn away. Only mildly amused at the Rain taking advantage of the situation to hang around his infatuation and abusing their ' _sleepovers'_ to wheedle his way into Gokudera’s bed. The fact these sleepovers happen nightly should have been a red-flag, but considering the personality of Yamamoto Takeshi. With his all-or-nothing attitude and minor case of Rain-fixation on Tsuna _(not minor, God not even in the same_ _ballpark_ _as minor. How did he miss it?)_. Reborn chalks it all up to the born-hitman’s inherit neuroses and lets it go at that.

Reborn doesn’t even spare a second thought for the nightly shadow of Tsuna’s Cloud patrolling near his student’s house with increasing frequency. Nor the mornings where he can hear an energetic Sun doing laps in tightening circuits around the neighborhood. He completely ignores the small illusions that crack when he passes too close with his pacifier. The little _‘eyes’_ placed strategically to offer a web of vision to the Mist Guardians that seem to have become more interested in Tsuna’s safety as of late.

It is all typical behavior of a strong set of Guardians, and Tsuna is just naturally friendly and charismatic. It doesn’t strike Reborn as anything to worry over. If anything it should be celebrated that his student’s famiglia is finally coming together.

Which is why the World’s Greatest Hitman unknowingly lets the third chance of stopping the oncoming train-wreck his student is about to cause go right on by without so much as a second glance.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

It takes Hayato a little under 20 minutes to complete his own after school excursion.

Technically, he could have been done in less then five - but a group of local businessmen had been hanging out in front of the cigarette vending machine he typically used and that had cost him some time. He _could_ have gone and found another further down the road, but he had already sabotaged the camera on this specific cigarette machine a while ago. Just to make sure that anyone who reviewed the footage wouldn’t see a 14 year old boy with a fake ID and faker taspo buying cigarettes in bulk every other day. Plus, it would be a pain in the ass to crack the security on another machine anyways, so he had done the obvious thing and waited for the businessmen to leave.

Though after almost 15 minutes of them chattering aimlessly he may have broke out the dynamite to scare the loitering assholes on to their slightly singed way. He did them a damned service as far as he is concerned, if they had hung around much longer they were more likely to be found by the crazy prefect and bitten to death for herding. Which, while they might have been compromising his ability to illegally obtain his needed nicotine fix, he has no real desire to see Tsuna’s Cloud Guardian destroy some civilians for doing something as stupid as standing around a little _too_ close to Tsuna’s house.

_(That is a lie, he is just mad because Hibari can get away with it. Tsuna always gives Hayato this sad, slightly disappointed look whenever he beats men into the ground for infringing on his Sky’s territory. The Cloud bastard doesn’t get more than an exasperated shrug for doing the same thing. The lucky fucker.)_

Regardless, he has his backpack restocked with cigarettes and even a new lighter to add to his collection since one of the businessmen dropped it when he started blowing shit up. He is in a decently good mood as he turns around to make his way back to the Tenth’s house. Eager to be beside his Sky once more.

He tries not to think of things beyond homework. Forces his brain to recite the mathematical formula needed for tonight's study session, but it’s hard to concentrate on things he already worked through. He did it in class obviously, so he wouldn’t waste the Tenth’s time on slogging through the answers when their nightly session time was for his Sky’s sake _._ So he shifts gears and starts planning out his English paper even though it isn’t due for another 4 days. The class is currently stumbling through english poetry and every time the teacher talks about the subject it makes Hayato want to break something. The absolute deadpan reading from not only his own classmates but also the teacher of some most beautiful poems of the late romantic era is making him twitchy.

_(He willfully ignores how that thought is all Shamal’s doing. Teaching him poetry to help him get a leg up on wooing ladies - like he would even be interested - but instead making him like Byron and Keats to the point he can probably recite most of Manfred by rote.)_

The teacher wants them to write out a synopsis of a poem of their own choice to be turned in by Friday. Hayato has been mentally debating what he is going to do since he read it on the blackboard.

He isn’t worried about the assignment for himself, because he can always bullshit his way through explaining the mixing of divinity and hedonism in the works and how the poems echo the indulgent nature of humanity. He is much more worried for Tsuna.

the Tenth is not great at English...Which he doesn’t need to be, of course! That is what he has Hayato for! It’s just going to make this upcoming homework a little...uncomfortable. Since it means that he is going to have to help the Tenth read through the poems, and then try and explain the deeply buried meaning behind each line.

How is he going to be able to look his beloved boss in the eye and try to explain the power of need and limitless devotion without his own voice cracking? How to make him understand the reverence love is given in the poems that is so blatant it borders on profane? Would Tsuna understand it without question? Accept and understand the impulse to exalt his loved ones to the point where history is defined only by that love?

Would Tsuna allow for Hayato to try and explain even a _fraction_ of the adoration his Storm spirals with?

He hisses and shuts that thought down immediately. Tempted to hit himself because that was exactly what he was supposed to be _not_ thinking about _goddamnit_! He can’t show up to the Tenth’s house leaking love-sick Flames everywhere! It’s bad enough that the Baseball idiot can’t keep his own Flame’s from trying to make them den down everytime they are within 10 feet of the stupidly tall swordsman. Adding his own Storm’s ardor into the mix will be a disaster. He won’t be able to go back to being alone if he does it, won’t be able to return to his apartment and untangle his Flames from Tsuna again.

He knows people talked about Sky Attraction being difficult to resist, but there is resistance and then there is _this_. This thing that feels like inevitability between him and his Sky.

_(He wants it though. WantsWantsWants. Wants the warmth and love of his Sky and the heavy calm of Rain. Wants to be denned somewhere safe and dark and theirs. He chokes on it, it’s so close. He’s tasted it before, why can’t he have it again? All he has to do is let go.)_

He _does_ hit himself in the head for that. Knocks the treacherous idea from his mind and crushes it under foot. There is no time for this. He has tutoring to do and he needs to keep it together, for both Tsuna and his own sake. He isn’t going to spiral and bring the Tenth to his pitiful level. He is going to go and help Tsuna and Takeshi with their math homework, maybe - just maybe - stick around for dinner, and then he will go to his apartment. He isn’t going to let the siren song of Sky and Rain win again tonight.

_(He ignores the fact that he has said the same thing for two weeks now and failed each day. Ignores that his school bag is heavy with an extra uniform for ‘no reason’. Ignores that he knows he is lying to himself.)_

When Hayato gets to the gate of the Sawada residence he has to shake his head and grumble under his breath. He has been gone for less then half and hour and there is already a smoking crater in the Tenth’s front yard. Likely one of the brats grenades if he considers the size of the blast radius. Most of a hedge has been blown to shreds as well, but at least it looks like the porch managed to remain unscathed this time.

Fully intent on giving the cow-child a good piece, _or twenty_ , of his mind on respecting Tsuna’s property, he readjusts his backpack, and knocks on the door.

Hayato hears Tsuna’s mother call out to him that she is coming, though her voice is muffled through the wooden door. Still it only takes her a few moments more to open the door for him, and he bows reflexively to his Sky’s mother.

She is a lovely woman - but he isn't afraid to admit she terrifies him down to the very marrow of his bones.

Sawada Nana isn’t scary like people in the Mafia are scary. No, with her big doe-brown eyes and easy smile there is very little scary about her at first glance. She is a civilian, and a housewife, and a mother. The most pain she will inflict is withholding your dessert and sending you to bed early if you upset her. She doesn’t scare him because she will hurt him.

No, the frightening thing about Tsuna’s mother is how deeply _broken_ she is. She is a cautionary tale that haunts Hayato with her benign mask. Reminds him that it would be so easy for him to become like her. Living but empty.

People whisper about Sky Attraction being hard to resist, and Hayato knows it better than anyone how true that is. How easy it is to slide his own Flames into his beloved Sky’s and the desire to never ever leave again. To twine himself so deeply into joyus amber that he forgets pain and fear and knows only harmony. Harmony and the promise of purpose. He can see where people fear Sky Attraction because Sawada Nana is a living example of what can happen when it is abused.

Hayato doesn’t know what kind of Flame Nana-san was. Doesn’t know if she ever became active or - like so many civilians who never know the true dangers of the world - remained passive. Doesn’t know if she was always happy to be a stay at home mother or if she had desires outside of these four walls. Because whatever was there before she met Tsuna’s father is long gone. Lost to the whirlwind of Sky Attraction.

It is so easy to see how it all happened. She fell in love with a charismatic Sky _(like anyone would do, she was a civilian for God’s sake. How was she supposed to know to guard against it?)_ Fell for him hard and fast and bound her Flames and her life to him. Either knowingly or unknowingly, twined and tangled herself until they became one in the breadth of his Sky. Gave her strength and devotion to him, and he repays her in turn by leaving her behind. Flees back to Italy and leaves the woman who gave him all of herself, down to her very soul, to a life of solitude. Colorless and without joy. A Sky empowered and a woman destroyed. The same story everyone whispers about Sky Attraction and the inevitable outcome of Sky-Sickness. All condensed down into the smiling mother of his own beloved Sky.

“Ah, Hayato-kun! Welcome home!” She greets him, thankfully oblivious as always to his unease. She smiles and opens the door wider, moving out of the way so he can come inside. “You don’t need to knock though, silly. Just let yourself in.”

“T-t-thank you!” He stutters, uncomfortably aware that she had said _home_. Like he lived here or something. Like he had the same rights to barge in at any time as the Tenth and the children.

She gives her kindness and love so easily it makes his heart hurt for her sometimes.

_(He doesn’t know what kind of Flame Sawada Nana was, but he wishes he could have. She and Tsuna are so similar. So open and inviting despite both of them having been broken in different ways. Hayato thinks she might have been a Sky too.)_

Hayato manages to take one step inside the house before he has to physically brace himself against the doorway as he staggers under the pressure of distressed Sky Flames.

The warmth and joy he has come to crave mingling his own Flames with is gone, replaced by a miasma of agitation and worry that floods every nook and cranny of the normally welcoming Sawada residence. Turning the place Hayato has come to view as a sanctuary from the world into a battlefield of emotional dissonance. He feels his own Flames rise in answer to the call of his Sky. The Storm inside lashing out, and it is only thanks to the fear of damaging Tsuna’s house that he manages to pull his hands off the doorway before he disintegrates the wooden trim.

Nana’s smile drops just a touch and she reaches out to the staggering teen. “You look pale Hayato-kun, are you well?”

He brushes off the woman’s concern with a mutter of “Fine, I’m fine.” Too intent on flaring out his Flames to find Tsuna to give her a proper response. He feels a gentle tendril of Sky brush against him from upstairs and Hayato barely has the frame of mind to hastily remove his shoes before he is rushing past Nana and up the stairs like the hounds of hell are nipping at his heels.

“Dinner will be ready in a little bit!” He vaguely hears his Sky’s mother call after him. It barely registers in his mind that she is directing the comment towards him as she shuffles back towards the kitchen.

Hayato takes the stairs two at a time and careens around the corner when he gets to the top floor. The anxious roll of Tsuna’s Flames is coming from the children’s room and he doesn’t bother with propriety this time when he barges into the former-guest room without so much as a by-your-leave.

His green eyes take in the room immediately, mind already preparing for battle with whatever has managed to wind the Tenth up to such a point that Hayato’s Flames writhe to destroy in his Sky’s name. The kid’s room looks the same as always. The one western style bed is tucked against the wall and Fuuta is laying on top the pale yellow blankets on it. Curled in on himself with his book protectively in his arms, the Ranking Prince looks up at the Storm’s entrance but doesn’t move beyond that. Lambo is sitting in the corner, facing the wall and crying while I-pin stands next to him. Guarding against the little boy leaving the ‘timeout’ corner before his time is up. The futons for the two are still rolled up near the closet, and the only thing out of place in the room is the crayons and paper littering the low table in the middle of the room.

However, in front of the same kneeling height table is Tsuna, facing towards the door. Their eyes meet, and Hayato almost whimpers at the furious amber shade he sees flickering behind soft-brown. “Tenth, what’s wrong?” He finally manages to ask, voice quiet with worry as he steps into the room. Making sure to close the door behind him. He curses that they are in the children’s room since there is no lock on this door, he will just have to be extra careful of intruders.

“Hayato…” Tsuna murmurs in response, reaching out towards the bomber with hands that tremble faintly. The silver-haired bomber is helpless to do anything but answer the unspoken plea. Taking those shaking hands into his own and kneeling in front of his Sky. Now that he is on the same level as the smaller teen he sees the dried remains of blood on Tsuna’s neck, his sharp eyes follow the trail back to the source and he finds a shallow graze on the Vongola heir’s ear. “Who the fuck did this to you?!” He demands, letting go of one hand to reach forward to tilt Tsuna’s head slightly so he can better see the damage.

The Tenth allows his presumptuous touch with a gentle sigh, even goes so far as to lean into it and slightly relax his tense form before tiredly murmuring the name of his assailant.

“Reborn.”

Hayato bites off a curse at the name. If it had been literally anyone else in Namimori he wouldn’t think twice about bringing out the dynamite and kicking their ass. But he knows there is no chance of him winning against the arcobaleno, probably no chance of him even landing a hit if he is perfectly honest. But honesty does nothing to soothe the way his Storm spirals dangerously close  to the surface. He _needs_ to hurt something, something has to suffer because his beloved Sky is suffering. He should at least go downstairs and try to defend Tsuna’s honor, even if it ends with him getting beaten into the floorboards. The fact he would be willing to even _try_ and attack Reborn might be enough of a warning to the arcobaleno that he’s crossed some sort of line. Though Hayato himself doesn’t know what that crossed line was.

Hayato is startled when Tsuna lets go of his hand and reaches forward again, using both his shaking hands to cup the bomber’s cheeks and forcing green eyes to return to amber-hued ones. Neither of them say a word, Hayato is too shocked by the touch to do more then open and close his mouth like a particularly stupid looking fish. But words aren’t needed when Hayato feels Tsuna’s Flames gently brush against his own. Delicate, fragile, inviting. Practically begging for them to join together if only for a moment.

His beloved boss’ eyes are the same doe-brown as his mother. Guileless and open, even with the lingering amber lurking near his iris. It’s almost scary to see the same eyes of the broken woman downstairs looking at Hayato so imploringly. The anxious and exhausted tinge to the Flames brushing against his a sharp contrast to the happy hue he’d twined with during school. It violently reminds Hayato all over again that Sawada Nana might be broken, but her son is suffering too. The difference is that where she gave her Flame willingly _(though maybe not so much willingly as unknowingly)_ the Tenth had his stolen. Forced under a seal for almost a decade of suffering, only for the torrential rush of his Sky to be released bullet by terrifying bullet. Breaks in the seal slow to form only for it to shatter like glass against the flow recently.

While Nana is empty and broken at least semi-willingly, Tsuna is suddenly too full after a lifetime of scratching at a void. Too much Sky to control rolling off him - and as always he turns to Hayato. To his Right-hand man. For the answers that others won’t give him. For the comfort that his Storm can provide by taking him within the eye of the hurricane and letting nothing near until he collects himself.

He needs Hayato like no one has ever needed him before, and Hayato is so goddamned selfishly happy about that.

In spite of everything. The seal, Tsuna’s own wobbly control, and the fear and anger that color the edges of amber Flames. The Tenth’s Flames caress his own Storm with heartbreaking gentleness, only asking for a brief reprieve from everything. Never demanding like all those horror stories of Sky Attraction claimed would inevitably happen.

 _‘Stay.’_ The Sky’s Flames plead in lieu of Tsuna speaking. _‘Please stay with me - if only for now, my Storm.’_

Hayato makes a choked noise in his throat. Almost in physical pain at how fast his Flames rise to answer the call. He wants it. WantWants _Wants_. It’s all he has ever wanted, to stay by his Sky’s side. For as long as he will be allowed to.

He can’t stop it this time. Not with the way he has been winding himself into knots over this for weeks now. Not with the way he dreams of it. Not with the way Tsuna pleads for what he could easily take.

Hayato falls into Harmony without remorse.

He twines his Storm Flames into the Sky’s own. Weaving himself into the web in a way he won’t be able to untangle from again. His song is low with reverence as he sings. _‘I am yours, my Sky. Always by your side.’_

Tsuna’s joy is almost tangible, and Hayato receives a surprising reward in the form of his face being pulled closer and a gentle kiss being pressed against his lips.

He almost combusts at the soft brush, but before he self-immolates the Tenth pulls away slightly and places his forehead against the silver-haired teen’s own. Allowing their breaths to twine together just like their Flames.

“Stay.” Tsuna breathes the plea into the space they share. “I need you to stay. I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t.” He sounds scared. Scared of himself.

Hayato finally manages to get ahold of himself, and reaches up to cover the Vongola heir’s hands with his own ring covered ones. “W-w-whatever you need Tenth, you only have to ask.” He swears, even with his face on fire and trembling in want.

Tsuna finally seems to start relaxing at that, and he leans forward to murmur softly in Hayato’s ear. Telling him about how he almost attacked Reborn. How he wanted the tutor dead for almost harming what was his. How he feels unsafe in his house and fears for the children he harbors.

Hayato doesn’t know if those feelings are part of Sky Attraction or caused by something else. Maybe Tsuna and the cow-brat’s Guardian bond is partly the cause. It matters little to him either way. His Sky feels unsafe in his chosen home, his territory. He needs those he trusts to stay close to keep him from doing something stupid. To stop him from attacking someone he has no chance of beating. The bomber can do that at least.

Everyone in the room turns towards the door when it rattles, but Tsuna doesn’t freeze up so Hayato follows his lead. The door swings open, and Takeshi steps inside with a strained smile on his face and his shinai bag slung over one shoulder along with an overnight bag.

“What’s going on guys?” The swordsman asks, his dark eyes taking in the room the same way Hayato’s had when he first arrived. His gaze finally stops on Tsuna and Hayato. Noticing the gentle touches, the bomber’s still red cheeks, and the blood on Tsuna’s neck. His strained smile takes on a few more _teeth_ and he steps purposefully into the room. Closing the door behind him with a deafening click.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Takeshi feels antsy as soon as he loses sight of his two friends.

It’s a feeling he’s been fighting a losing battle with ever since Tsuna taught him the neat trick to make his Rain Flames wrap around people. He loves doing it too, even if it makes him increasingly antsy each day. Wrapping Tsuna and Hayato in his Flames is the best thing ever though- better than baseball, and sword fighting, and _everything_ ! He is never happier than when he is allowed to pull the pair into his Flames. Making them relaxed and easy and not wanting to get into trouble and get _hurt._

Tsuna and Hayato get into trouble _a lot_. Often of their own making. Takeshi just wants them to be safe for a few hours and rest. That's not a bad thing right? He doesn’t think it’s bad…

But he needs to go see his dad, it’s been two days now since they’ve seen each other face to face and that's not fair. Just because he doesn’t like to let his two friends out of his sight doesn’t mean he can ignore his dad everyday.

Takeshi isn’t sure why Tsuna and Hayato won’t just come to his house with him. He’s only had them over for one weekend before and it had been _really_ nice. He had made a big nest out of some futons and blankets, pinned his curtains closed, and let his Rain Flames pour out like they always want to do - the combination leaving everyone sleepy and soft for hours and hours. Takeshi hadn’t known at the time how fulfilling it could be to drag his two high-strung and anxious friends into the gentle arms of his Rain. How much he craved seeing Hayato relaxed and drowsy, or Tsuna buried under a half dozen covers but still wanting the warmth of arms around him. Takeshi had done everything possible to keep the two like that, his sleep-spell only broken by the need to eat or bathe, and Takeshi had jumped to fix either of those things so they could all return to his nest hastily. Hayato hadn’t even put up a fight about being fed sushi from Takeshi’s own chopsticks at one point. Too languid to do more then accept the offered meal and then roll over to cuddle more with Tsuna in their dim little nest.

It had been the best weekend _ever._

Takeshi wants to do that again, like...every single day, again. But Tsuna doesn’t like to leave his house for too long, he worries about the kids. So Takeshi has to stay at Tsuna’s place if he wants to keep watch over his two favorite friends.

It’s just not the same over there though, he can’t make the room nice and dark or get a proper nest made. Most of the extra futons and blankets are being used by the children, and Tsuna doesn’t have a blackout curtain in his room like Takeshi does. But those are minor things in comparison to the big dilemma.

The fact the _kid_ sleeps in Tsuna’s room in the hammock is the main problem. He doesn’t mind the suit wearing child normally, but it makes him twitchy when the boy won’t leave at night and go sleep in the room with the other children. Why does he have to sleep in the same room as Tsuna? It’s _Tsuna’s room_ , and Tsuna never fully relaxes with the kid there. Takeshi doesn’t have enough Rain Flames in the world to make Tsuna completely relax with the little boy hanging around. He never gets to see Tsuna all murmury and smiling and loose-limbed anymore. It’s the worst.

But that is an issue to be solved later, right now he needs to go see his dad.

He steps in through the front door of TakeSushi and is greeted by a few customers who know him. He greets the regulars back absently and clambers up onto a stool at the bar portion of the restaurant. Grinning wide as he watches his dad’s hypnotizing knife work make short order of a plate of what looks to be maguro nigiri. _Mmmmm_...Maguro sounds really good right now, actually.

His dad looks up at him once he finishes plating the customers order and grins like he can read Takeshi’s mind about the food.

Gosh, Takeshi really hopes his dad can’t actually read his mind. That could be really awkward. Especially if he catches any of his thoughts about the whole nesting and hand feeding his friends bit. That would be _super-duper_ awkward to explain.

“Hi, Dad!” He decides to say instead of asking if his dad knows about him daydreaming about tucking Hayato and Tsuna into his darkened room and stuffing them full of tamago nigiri _(It’s Hayato’s favorite, he still has that weird westerner view of raw fish. Takeshi is working on it.)_

“Well hello to you too. I was starting to think you had moved out.” His dad replies, but he’s smiling so Takeshi is pretty sure he isn’t being serious.

“Sorry. I just get wrapped up in everything and space out.” Which is at least the truth, it’s hard to think outside of the funny urge to take care of Tsuna and Hayato. Makes him a little irritated to be so far apart from them right now truthfully. They could be getting into trouble or be hurt and he wouldn’t know. He almost frowns, he doesn’t like that thought at all.

His dad snorts and moves to hand a customer the nigiri plate. The food goes to a vaguely pretty lady who is just sort of….there. Takeshi doesn’t find anything interesting about her and lets the woman fade away from his notice. He doesn’t do it to be rude, but she is just like….filler space to him. There is no spark of Flame, or danger inherit to the lady eating his father’s sushi and so she kind of doesn’t exist to him. He used to feel bad about that, because before Tsuna no one but his mom and dad had really existed to him.

But now he has Tsuna, Hayato, Ryohei-senpai, and Hibari-san. He even has Tsuna’s kids running around making mischief when he chooses to notice them. His world is finally interesting, and so he doesn’t need to try and fill it with background noise anymore.

“I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me, you do always get hyper-fixated on things.” His dad turns back to grab another ticket. Takeshi only catches a glimpse of it, but he’s pretty sure it’s for shrimp. _Oh_ , shrimp would be good too! Now he’s conflicted, does he want maguro or shrimp? Decisions, decisions…Hayato would choose shrimp, since it’s cooked. But Takeshi really likes maguro.

“If you like something you should give it your all, right?” He agrees absently with his dad, not bothered by the words in the least. They are true after all. He always tries to give all of himself to things. And right now the things he’s chosen to focus on are his swordsmanship and taking care of Tsuna and Hayato. He has little room to think of other stuff that isn’t as important.

“To an extent, yes. But you need to take care of yourself too.” His dad says seriously. Which causes Takeshi to make a confused hum at that. Unsure what brought on that sort of tone. “I just don’t want you overworking yourself again.” The sushi chef clarifies for him, but It still takes Takeshi a moment to realize that his dad is talking about when he broke his arm during baseball practice.

Wow, that feels like forever ago…

He doesn’t like to think about that time. The world before Tsuna wasn’t very much fun. He likes it much better now, he has real people to fill the world with and a bigger game then baseball to play. Someone to give all of himself to, which helps stop the itch under his skin from getting to be too much again. He doesn’t want to live a life where the short walk off a roof is the only option to stopping the empty feeling from swallowing him up. He’d much rather just go keep Tsuna and Hayato safe and happy. That seems like the better option.

“Maa..Don’t worry Dad, I’m resting up plenty. I even take naps during lunch period at school.” He offers up to help make his dad feel better. The older man sighs and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t push. So Takeshi is pretty sure he said something right, even if his dad sort of has that look on his face he usually only gives when Takeshi brings home tests marked with 20’s on them. That's okay, his dad can look however he wants to as long as he doesn’t bring up the broken-arm thing again.

Even just being reminded of it makes him itch deep under his skin. It makes him want to wrap his hands around something and _hit_ things. Either a baseball or a training dummy or maybe even one of those yakuza that keep prowling Tsuna’s neighborhood. He just wants to hit something _hard._

He suddenly isn’t very hungry.

“I’m going to go change and head over to Tsuna’s, we’ve got a study session planned for tonight.” He jumps off the stool and makes his way to the second floor, pretending he doesn’t hear his dad spluttering behind him. It’s not very nice of him. He’s come all this way to hang out with his dad after all. But Takeshi needs to leave immediately. His dad’s knives are too close and too sharp, he’ll scare someone if he uses one of those to start hitting things in the shop with.

He hastily makes his way to his room and grabs an extra uniform for tomorrow and does actually change into one of his flannels and some jeans. He doesn’t linger beyond that, needing to leave _now_ before he does something that will upset his dad _._ He reshoulders his shinai bag and the bag holding his homework and spare uniform and ducks out the back door of the restaurant while his dad is busy making another order for a customer.

His feet immediately turns towards Tsuna’s house and he doesn’t second guess himself. Setting himself at a light jog to work off some of the buzzing under his skin. Why did his dad have to make him think of that stuff? He was already antsy and itchy that he’d left Tsuna and Hayato alone to visit home, now he’s all mixed up and thinking about being empty and useless again. Itchy and antsy and empty and useless. His head is all mixed up, he can’t handle this right now! He just wants to get back to Tsuna and Hayato. They’ll help him feel better.

He barely notices when his light jog turns into a full sprint.

He turns a corner and passes a vending machine area that Takeshi vaguely recognizes as the one that Hayato sabotaged the cameras at so he can buy cigarettes without getting in trouble. Loitering around is a couple of yakuza that look slightly singed. Hayato must have already chased them off once. The itchy part of his mind purrs in satisfaction at his find. Perfect. He needs something to hit.

He pulls Shigure Kintoki out of his shinai bag without slowing down and launches himself at the four yakuza stupid enough to return after being warned off once already. Hayato is not a kind opponent, and Takeshi is in no mood to be any nicer.

He does do them one favor and doesn’t let Shigure Kintoki shed it’s bamboo form though. Not that it’s really for them, he just doesn't think he’ll be able to _not_ kill the yakuza members if he has something sharp in hand at the moment. So it’s more that he doesn’t have to clean up any dead bodies then kindness on his part.

The yakuza members screech in pain as his hits land hard. He purposely aims for spots bearing burns from Hayato’s explosives. He can’t kill these guys without it causing trouble, but he can make sure they _hurt._ They put up a pitiful fight against his torrential assault. Only one of them manages to get a weapon out _(a knife, which Takeshi kicks out of his hand and then pockets for his own use. It’s always good to have backup weapons.)_ The others all collapse before they manage anything else. It is the work of half a minute before all four men in shabby business suits with small tattoos of a coiled snake on their collar bones lay in a heap on the ground.

Takeshi feels slightly better.

“Maa...You need to pick a better place to play at.” He admonishes the crying men with a grin that might be a tad mean looking. “This spot is already being used for a game.”

That itchy part of his brain that tells him about danger goes off and Takeshi spins around, pointing Shigure Kintoki up towards the wall behind him. Before his smile loses it’s cruel edge and he laughs at what he sees.

“Hahaha...Oops! Hi, Hibari-san! When’d you get here?”

Standing on top of the street side wall is the aptly named Demon of Namimori, apparently out for his afterschool patrol of the city. His grey eyes are narrowed on the moaning pile of men on the ground and his frown is deep enough to cause concern. “Herbivore,” the Cloud says with a hint of anger “you stole my prey.”

“Maa...Sorry, sorry Hibari-san. I just-.” Takeshi interrupts himself to stomp on a yakuza grunt’s hand to stop the idiot from going for the gun in his pocket. The sound of bones crunching and the pained scream it gets helps that itchy thing in his head calm down more. “I needed to hit something, _really bad_.”

“Hn.” Is all the older Guardian says in response. Takeshi isn’t worried, out of all Tsuna’s Guardians, Hibari-san is probably the one who understands the need to hit things the most.

“I think these guys are scouts for a new team wanting to come to town to play. Maybe you should talk to them Hibari-san. They sure don’t seem to know the rules for Namimori.” Takeshi almost laughs at the face Hibari makes at him, but doesn’t as the prefect jumps down from the wall and stalks over to the crying puddle of middle-aged thugs.

“I’ve already called for them to be picked up for interrogation. Move along before I decide to bite you for taking my fight from me.”

Takeshi doesn’t need to be told twice. He gives the older teen a quick wave and wanders towards Tsuna’s house in a much better mood. Although he does purposefully step on another yakuza grunts hand as he steps over the pile. It’s not his fault they are all stupid enough to think he won’t notice them going for the guns in their pockets.

He can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaves him either as he hears Hibari’s tonfa connect with a sickening crack to the same yakuza’s head. Hopefully the other three will survive long enough to be given to the Discipline Committees tender mercies. Takeshi is getting really tired of whatever out of town clan this is prowling around, and sadly dead yakuza can’t squeal on their superiors.

With the itch now somewhat sated he doesn’t feel the overwhelming need to run anymore, but he does allow himself a light jog - still antsy to be back at his friends sides. Especially since it seems Hayato has been out here beating up yakuza alone. Takeshi isn’t worried that the silver-haired teen was injured in his altercation. On a normal day he personally wouldn’t even bother with these grunts, they are so low on his threat scale. He’d leave them for Hibari-san to break and go on his merry way. However, Hayato tends to get anxious about things creeping too close to Tsuna. Especially things that could pose any sort of threat to them all. Takeshi doesn’t foresee this new group being much of a threat to the order of their city, but Hayato always expects the worst.

The Storm is probably all riled up and red-faced, maybe even pacing Tsuna’s room as he mutters about the best ways to destroy the intruders. He always gets the cutest frown when he seriously plots murder.

Uhg, the image is too much for him. He wants to see it _now_ . If he’s lucky Tsuna will be in one of his moods where he isn’t trying to talk Hayato out of it either. He loves it when Tsuna gets that hard amber look in his eyes and silently condones the casual talk of killing threats to their little family. That look is maybe his second favorite thing in the world. Right after seeing Tsuna and Hayato wrapped in a tangle of limbs and relaxed, their half-lidded eyes waiting on him to join their warm nest with sleepy but expectant looks. That is the best thing in the entire _universe._

He trots through the gate to the Sawada residence and absently notices another new crater in the yard. It’s not worth getting worked up over though, the size and shape are nothing like what Hayato’s explosives make. So probably the kids playing with their toys again. Good on them to practice, who knows when they might need it.

He brushes off the thought and makes his way to the door. He doesn’t bother to knock as he lets himself inside. He practically lives here nowadays and Nana-san gave him permission to come and go as he pleases. He’s happy to do as Tsuna’s mom says since it means he doesn’t have to wait on the doorstep to be allowed in.

The door opens and the house is unusually quiet. Especially if the kids were in a mood to be practicing with their toys, there is usually a lot more yelling from the little ones when they start lobbing explosives. He can’t help but be on edge at the lack of noise.

He steps over the threshold with a deliberate step, arms loose and ready to pull his sword out again. He barely makes it into the entrance where Tsuna and Hayato’s shoes are both haphazardly laying in a pile. _(Normal for Tsuna, but unheard of for Hayato.)_ When he is almost knocked over by the unexpected pressure of distressed Sky Flames.

Takeshi hisses as he staggers under the weight. Anger bubbling up in his own Flames to match the agitation pulling at him. He chokes on the panic twisting through what should only ever feel like joy. His Sky is pouring fear and anger out like a busted dam and it threatens to pull him under the swell.The itch inside is suddenly back with avengeance, his nerves are taunt and if he thought he needed to hit something before. It is nothing like now. Because whatever has upset Tsuna this much doesn’t need to be hit. It needs to _suffer._

 _It needs to_ **_die_ ** _._

He is a second away from pulling Shigure Kintoki out again when Tsuna’s Flame changes. Still aggravated and afraid, but suddenly alight with a familiar joy.

The new joy is caused by Hayato’s Flames doing something that even Takeshi can feel all the way down in the entryway. Those brilliant Flames the bomber always hesitates to indulge in using are suddenly weaving amongst Tsuna's in way that leaves the swordsman breathless. He can feel Hayato now almost as clearly as he feels Tsuna. The joy of Sky and the devotion of Storm now melded into one. Takeshi can hear the changes in the song that is bleeding through the house. It is anger and fear and delight and love. It is nothing like the sleep-happy days he stole from his two favorite people, but the way he can tell they are now twined together…

He wants that. He _needs_ that. He didn’t know that twining together permanently was an _option._ If he had known he wouldn’t have let them go after that weekend. He wouldn’t have cared when Monday rolled around and Hayato had whispered that he had to let them go. That they needed to return to their own houses. Even though Takeshi had _seen_ the resistance in both their eyes at the words. He should have known he could say no and keep them.

He doesn’t take his shoes off, too intent on finding his Sky and Storm.

He has to have them back under his skin. He can’t stand being empty and antsy anymore. He let them escape his clutches before, he won’t be so easy to wriggle away from this time.

His legs are long and it is no trouble for him to take the stairs two at a time, but he doesn’t run. Doesn’t bring any extra attention to himself just yet. The haze of Tsuna’s anger is not gone, just slightly dimmer under the new addition of Hayato to the song. He moves with a predators gait. Still leery of what could have upset Tsuna to this point.

Tsuna and Hayato’s Flames are concentrated behind the door of the kid’s room. An odd choice for his two friends to be holed up in. It is the least defensible of the upstairs rooms and lacks a lock on the door.

Mindful of what he might find behind the door he twists the nob and opens it.

Inside is everything he would normally expect to see, and nothing that should merit the miasma of distress still lingering around. “What’s going on guys?” He asks everyone present, still raking his eyes around the room.

The children are all here, which he had assumed since he heard none of them downstairs. The oldest is curled into a miserable ball on the western styled bed with that big book he likes to read in his arms. The two younger are in the timeout corner. The one who likes to play ball with explosives is crying and whimpering where he sits even though he’s turned to look at Takeshi, obviously having gotten into trouble over something ( _maybe the crater?)_ while the only girl of the trio is making sure her brother stays in the corner. Arms crossed in front of her and frowning down at the sobbing boy without any pity. Harsh little thing, maybe it’s a Storm trait. Hayato has no patience for people who do stupid stuff either.

His eyes roll off the trio of children and land on his friends, and he has no control of how his smile suddenly warps. How can anyone expect him to smile like everything is okay when Tsuna and Hayato are not only twined in their Flames, but also in each others arms? How can they expect him to smile when he sees blood on his Sky and the exhaustion in amber-tinted eyes?

It is everything he wants and hates at the same time. He wants Tsuna and Hayato happy and twined together, but he _hates_ them being hurt and exhausted. The image in front of his is like someone plucked his favorite fantasy and worst nightmare out of his head and mashed them together. He swallows past the mixture of feelings warring inside him and closes the door behind him.

“Takeshi.” Tsuna calls to him and it’s a rare enough pleasure to hear his first name from the typically high-strung boy that he finds himself relaxing if only slightly.

“You’ve got a little something on your neck there, Tsuna. Been playing rough with the kids?” He doubts it, the kids know better then to hurt Tsuna to the point where he bleeds. If they had done it accidentally he expects Tsuna would be buried under bandages and the children’s arms as they apologize endlessly.

Tsuna’s smile is wry, and he pulls slightly away from Hayato - which Takeshi hadn’t meant for that to happen, they look so pretty together - before he answers. “I guess you could say I was playing rough with one of the kids.” The wry smile is a little too wobbly, too strained. Amber-eyes glitter sharply in the dying daylight. The telling thing though is that Hayato doesn’t start swearing up a storm at whoever caused their Sky injury. That leaves only one culprit. Only one person that Hayato tried his damndest to not piss off.

He feels his own shoulders tensing in understanding. The _baby._ It’s always the suit-wearing child upsetting his Sky. _Every. Single. Time_.

“Maa…” He draws out the word as he wanders forward, steps more predatory then he likes to show in front of his two friends. They always get so worried when he lets himself get wound up, but they’ll have to forgive him right now. He is _very_ mad. “That wasn’t very nice of the kid.” An _understatement_. “Maybe they need someone to talk to them about good conduct. It’s unbecoming to play too rough in a game. Especially if people get hurt from it.” He wraps his Rain around Tsuna and Hayato and lets his intent flood the two in a way he’s never dared. Let’s the cold typhoon out and howls out the truth.

_‘Give me the word, my Sky. I’ll end him.’_

He doesn’t dare to say it plainly, not even in the song between them. Tsuna doesn’t like death spoken of so brazenly even if he is coming to accept it as a natural part of their little world. But the offer is obvious. One word and Takeshi will try his damndest to kill the kid. It’ll be hard, maybe even impossible. But if Tsuna wants him dead, then Takeshi will either deliver his Sky what he wants or die trying.

“Idiot…” Hayato mutters, but his voice is that worried one he gets when Takeshi is too blunt with his eagerness for violence. You’d think a hitman would be used to others being fine to commit murder. But it’s okay, Takeshi thinks it’s cute that Hayato still worries about him like he’s some silly background noise person who gets scared of blood and gunfire.

Tsuna makes a broken little noise and pulls away from Hayato completely. Instead reaching for Takeshi with desperate hands. He lets himself be grabbed and pulled down to his knees. Still taller than his friends even while kneeling, but now close enough that Tsuna can touch his face. “Don’t offer me that.” The brunette begs. “Please, not right now.”

Takeshi isn’t stupid, and he leans into the touch of his Sky with dark pleasure tinting his howling Rain. Tsuna is begging him to not offer to kill because he might very well accept it right now. The thought of being commanded to defend his Sky is almost as good as seeing Tsuna denned down and happy. He’s tempted to push. He wants the order. Wants amber eyes to demand everything of him that he can give.

But he has something else he wants even more right now.

“Okay, I guess we can save the talk for later. I’m sure the kid will be around.” His words make everyone in the room tense further, and Tsuna’s Flames flare in a distressed pulse. The brunette doesn’t like that at all it seems. Hayato even whacks him in the arm for the words. But Takeshi has really good reflexes and snags the wrist decorated in pretty bangles and ornaments before it can retreat.

He feels daring and rubs his thumb over the soft skin of Hayato’s inner wrist. Which makes the bomber hiss like a startled cat but the red-blush on his cheeks darkens further. “I noticed you two doing something pretty neat when I walked into the house though!” He keeps his voice cheery mostly for the children in the room. He discovered during their weekend of being twined together that using his voice at a lower pitch usually got better results with his friends. But his voice always sounds a little too rough when he isn’t smiling. A little too dangerous. “Wanna teach me how to do it too?”

Hayato chokes on air and Tsuna gives a startled blink in surprise.

“You _felt_ it?!” The silver-haired boy wheezes once he finally has enough air for the words. Takeshi smiles guilelessly at his friends and abuses Hayato’s surprise so that he can continue to pet the bomber’s wrist some more as he answers. “Maa...It was cool. You’re all woven into Tsuna now, Hayato. I can feel it.”

Hayato turns into a cherry suddenly. Snatching his hand out of Takeshi’s hold and away from Tsuna so that he can cover his face and moan in embarrassment. Whatever he’s embarrassed about Takeshi can’t really understand. But it makes him look super cute.

Awww, and Tsuna’s starting to blush too. Adorable.

“I didn’t know it would be that obvious.” Hayato mumbles from behind his hands. “I’m so sorry Tenth.”

“Ah, whatever for? Did you not want people to know?”  Tsuna cocks his head to the side and pins a worried gaze on the red-faced teen. Hayato sputters at the question and uses his hands to wave rapidly in front of himself in denial. “No! No, no, no! Nothing like that Tenth! I’m proud to be yours, and for everyone to know that fact! I just...I didn’t know it would be obvious to others when we fully harmonised. I only know about all this from second-hand stories and I-I-It’s a little different then I thought it would be like!” The confession is obviously hard for Hayato, he hates to admit to lacking knowledge about anything. Tsuna is starting to look concerned that he’s forced the bomber into something he doesn’t want which drives Hayato to continue on. “B-but it’s nice! The way everyone always talked about Sky Attraction used to scare me, but I should have known the Tenth would be amazing at this too!” He stops to take a deep breath before he has to cover his face back up in embarrassment as he whispers. “I’m really happy. I didn’t think I could _be_ this happy.”

Takeshi is dying, that is too adorable.

It also makes him unimaginable jealous because he needs that feeling too.

“That sounds awesome!” He chirps, drawing their attention back to him. “I totally want that.”

“Idiot!” Hayato half-squeaks, half-barks from behind his hands. “It’s not something you should just do willy-nilly! it’s permanent! You’ll never be able to untwine from him again if you do it, do you understand?”

“Nope!” He answers immediately. “But I don’t need to understand. Tsuna’s already had me since he saved my life.” He turns his attention wholey to his Sky and reaches out to touch the side of his neck not caked in dried blood. “I’d like to be yours too, is that okay?”

Tsuna looks overwhelmed - he always looks like that when Takeshi mentions almost dying. Another good reason not to ever bring it up. But it helps the brunette understand how serious Takeshi is about this.

Takeshi sighs in bliss when Tsuna’s Flames wrap around him. They hesitate, unsure. It is one thing to drag Hayato into his net, the bomber is already part of Mafia life and never likely to leave it. But Tsuna has this silly notion that Takeshi will eventually tire of his new purpose and return to baseball. Like he can somehow give up this whole life of joy and song for the drudgery of background noise.

He doesn’t wait for Tsuna to ask. Tsuna will probably never ask. He never wants to take from others, even things that would be freely given. So like always Takeshi simply gives. He calls his Rain and tries to weave himself along the web the same way Hayato has. It is easy as breathing to do it now that he has a idea of what to copy. He even goes out of his way to weave himself around Hayato’s flames as well. Twining himself into intricate knots around his two favorite people in the world. He hears Hayato cry out at the unexpected move. But it surely shouldn’t be that surprising. They are both his, and he wants both of them wrapped in his Rain forever.

“Takeshi.” Tsuna chokes slightly, drowning under the full weight of what he’s only ever felt the smallest fraction of. Takeshi has tried to be careful not to overwhelm his friends, too scared he might _permanently_ put them to sleep if he pushed too much. But the Harmony pushes back and twines around his Tranquility. Forcing the dangerous edge of _too much_ away. However that leaves everything else that isn't _too much_ free to settle into Sky and Storm. Hayato whines and collapses into a boneless mess. Takeshi quickly wraps one long arm around the silver-haired teen to keep him from falling over and brings the bomber’s full weight to bare on him. He’s amused to see Hayato already passed out. Maybe he shouldn’t have wrapped himself quite so tight around the Storm.

Tsuna handles the deluge better but only just, his Harmony actively keeping him from being dragged into sleep until the bond settles.

Takeshi sighs and drops his head to rest on Hayato’s soft hair once things click together. He feels Tsuna and Hayato under his skin again finally. Back where they belong after too long.

“You knocked him out.” Tsuna’s drowsy voice mumbles once his side of the bond also settles. He feels good. Amazing even. But also in desperate need of a nap.

“He’s not the only one.” Takeshi laughs, and gestures with his head slightly to the rest of the room. Tsuna turns and spies that all three of the children are passed out in various positions around the room. Fuuta being the only one looking even vaguely comfortable as he is at least on the bed.

Takeshi hums in amusement but drags Tsuna’s attention back to himself. Now that everyone is asleep he feels like asking what brought all this on in the first place. He drags his hand up from the Sky’s throat to cup his cheek, making him look up into his own dark eyes that are tinted a faint blue at the edge. “Now, what happened to start all this hmmm?” His voice is that same dark rumble he used when he had Tsuna all lovely and denned down in the dark. He hopes it will work the same now that it did then.

Tsuna pitches forward slightly at the deep voice, cheeks turning slightly pink. But he eventually crawls closer to Takeshi and Hayato’s sleeping form, practically climbing into Takeshi’s lap so that he can whisper into the swordsman’s ear whatever is too delicate to speak of plainly, even with the children asleep.

It’s good thing he does come so close, because as the brunette confesses to what Reborn did and what Tsuna almost did in response. About what Tsuna wants and what he fears. If Takeshi hadn’t been partially pinned under the weight of his two favorite people he would have done something stupid. Like go downstairs and try to murder the baby. As it is he breathes heavily as Tsuna pushes his Harmony down on him and makes him relax. “Don’t.” The Sky begs him. “It will make things worse if we do anything. Leave it be for now.”

“Maa...Alright.” He concedes. Though not happy about it at all. “Help me set up the room for bed? I think we’ll be better sleeping in here tonight then your room. The baby never likes to sleep around your kids. He might leave us alone.”

Takeshi is rewarded for his words by a thankful kiss being pressed against his lips. The pressure soft and sweet. He licks his lips as soon as Tsuna pulls away, already planning how to get another, much longer, kiss before the night is through.

The Sky laughs lightly, obviously feeling Takeshi’s intention through their Flames. Not that he does anything to hide his desire from the brunette. He gets another kiss for the brazen want he shamelessly pushes towards his Sky. This one much more indulgent and closer to what he wants. Not exactly what he needs, but what he truly desires he can’t have with three children in the room. Even if they are unconcious.

He gives Hayato over to Tsuna to hold while he rounds up the spare futon and blankets from around the house. Returning swiftly to build the best nest he can for them in the face of a severe lack of materials. He even puts the three children to sleep on the western style bed and pinches their futons to add to his pile. The kids can handle one night of sharing.

The room has no curtain either, just blinds for the windows. Which is a huge annoyance because he prefers to sleep in the dark. He shrugs it off though, it’s only for one night. He can deal with it for Tsuna and Hayato.

In the end his nest is pretty subpar to his standards, but he has Hayato and Tsuna tucked under blankets and wrapped around each other. Twined as tight as their Flames. Hayato slumbers on, relaxed and breathing softly against their Sky’s neck. Tsuna is watching him set up the room with drowsy doe-brown eyes. The amber sheen almost completely gone. He isn’t smiling, but he’s calmed down and obviously ready for sleep. “Takeshi..” He beckons from the nest. Using the arm draped around Hayato’s waist to pat the other side of the blankets.

“Mmm not yet. Lemme’ go grab dinner and a change of clothes for us. I don’t think everyone will be out for too long.” Tsuna _could_ shock everyone awake if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. Content to let them work through the overwhelming amount of Rain Flames naturally.

Sky Flames brush against him thankfully. But Takeshi doesn’t need the thanks.

He’s only doing his favorite thing in the world afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Me** : Hey, lets write the chapter in two equal parts to show Hayato and Takeshi's version of the same events!  
>  **My Brain** : What if we write almost the whole chapter in Takeshi POV and show our personal bias instead?  
>  **Me** : O shit u rite.
> 
> Also Hibari's kill count is up to 2. Might need to start a tally system or something.
> 
> This chapter is a monster and I'm sure there are errors - lemme known when you guys find 'em. 
> 
> **In the next chapter;** Reborn flirts with Nana! Oh, and we also find out some actual answers to shit.


	4. Extended Forecast: Sunny Skies

If Reborn had managed to catch Tsuna as soon as he pulled his Left and Right Hands in his swell, the hitman might have been able to salvage the situation. Could have called in a metric fuck-ton of favors and maybe - _just maybe_ \- could have kept it from spiraling further out of control.

But he doesn’t catch it.

He isn’t able to feel the shockwave of Flames when Tsuna pulls off an almost _mythical_ move that no other Mafia Sky has done in decades. Can’t feel the rolling wave of Sky twining with his elements in a dance that makes Sky Attraction look like a cheap parlor trick in the wake left behind. His pacifier swallows every lick of his Students Flame that lashes at him. Completely oblivious to the world-altering event happening above him as he harmlessly flirts with Mamma in the kitchen.

_(She’s a lovely woman and a wonderful host, she deserves all the kind words he can give her. It’s not like he can actually do anything in his cursed form anyways…)_

His only hint something has happened is when none of the inhabitants of the house come running when dinner is called for.

Only Yamamoto Takeshi slinks into the kitchen eventually, all easy smiles and laid back attitude. He’s come to collect dishes to bring upstairs. Lying with a grin on his face that everyone is really into their homework at the moment and he’s been sent to fetch food for them.

Reborn doesn’t call him on the lie. Hubris makes him think he has all the answers and he doesn’t look past the obvious one. He must have terrified his student and all the children with his surprise attack earlier and now they are busy being cowards hiding away in the kid’s room.

( _He’s right, but also wrong. So terribly wrong.)_

He lets the Rain go without bothering to look deeper at the picture. Doesn’t care about why the dark-haired teen would still be carrying his shinai bag if he’s doing homework, doesn’t look twice at the white knuckled grip on the plates or the darkened eyes trained on him. Reborn has upset Tsuna and the Rain’s minor _(It’s not minor, damn everything)_ Fixation on his Sky can be blamed for the animosity. He merely makes a mental note to plan a lesson to help the swordsman work through the Fixation before it gets worse.

Mamma turns back to talking to him anyways, prattling on about planning a party for Lambo and I-pin’s birthday. The same subject she’s been fixed on for the last few days now, and eager to go on and and on _and on_ about towards any willing ear about. Reborn indulges her despite his distaste for the Bovino-brat and Fon’s protege. She always seems a little more lively when talking about the children, a little more locked in the present. It’s only a minor hardship to fake interest in the children’s birthdays. Mostly content to eat his dinner and let Mamma giggle and coo over the little details that seem so very important to her.

_(Reborn is going to snap Iemitsu’s damned neck the_ **_second_ ** _Tsuna is sitting on the Vongola Throne. What the bastard’s done to his wife is unforgivable. She’s just a civilian who wanted a family and a ridiculously large brood of kids. The Young Lion had no right to break such a gentle woman the way he did. Reborn might not be able to feel the damage thanks to his pacifier, but he knows someone with Sky-Sickness when he sees it.)_

The talk of birthday-presents, colors, and cakes all fades into background noise that he only hums or makes vague questions towards when prompted. He doesn’t care that the two youngest of Tsuna’s strays are turning six and finally able to attend elementary school this April. Nor does he really care for the fact she wants to invite all of _Tsuna’s own_ over to help their family celebrate the occasion.

It should have been another red-flag. The very specific way she talks about her son’s Guardians.

But everything Sawada Nana says is a little off, a little inane, and Reborn doesn’t care enough about planning the guest-list for a child’s birthday party to be bothered to care about her choice of words.

He just hums in agreement, and shoves another bite of delicious rice into his mouth. Ignorant of the faint brush of weak Flame that reaches towards him, only to be devoured by his pacifier immediately in turn.

Nana’s smile never dims.

\------------------------------------------------------

Once upon a time there was a girl named Okumura Nana, and she was loved by everyone she knew.

She was raised in a little town called Kuroyama, in Akita-ken. The town was mostly comprised of farmland and surrounded by mountains, with the only notable thing to come from the town being a cultivar of rice that was mildly popular enough that some people would travel the long distance to the remote town to come and buy bags to take home. It never gained widespread appeal because the farmers only ever sold it to the local shops and farmers markets. Meaning most of those outside the city never knew of Kuroyama rice. Which was how the citizens prefered it.

The few shops and houses in Kuroyama were all traditional in design, lacking the western influence that is widespread in most bigger cities. Coming to Kuroyama was like stepping back into the late edo period, and if the citizens of the tiny town had been more of the welcoming-sort it could have been a popular tourist town for those craving a taste of the old world.

But those who lived in Kuroyama care only for their own, and watch outsiders with cautious eyes. Only relaxing once the strangers leave with their rice or pictures.

The only family even vaguely kind towards outsiders was the Okumura’s. A huge clan of people who lived in a house most would have considered a lord’s mansion considering its sprawling size and decorative architecture.

Nana lived in this huge busy home with almost twenty other people. Her mother and father, her older sisters and younger brother, her aunts and uncles - and sometimes the new friends her elder sisters would bring home to join the family. People with the same eyes as the other citizens of Kuroyama, all dark and leery of the world - but who loved their city and the people in it with their whole self.

She grew up surrounded by those who loved her - from the residence of her crowded home to every shopkeep and farmer in the town. Nana was known by name and given treats and trinkets from everyone she came in contact with. Sometimes even the tourist would give her offerings and say thank you for letting them pass through. She liked those kinds of tourists, manners were very important.

But then one day she meets a stranger with those same sharp eyes that were so familiar to her. The same gaze that sparked with something bigger than themselves. His eyes were a stormy dark grey, but tinged red at the edges when he greeted her. Across his back he carried a naginata that he claimed was decorative, but the blade glittered in the sunlight with a razor’s edge.

He handed her a lovely little hairpin with a red camilla carved into the end of it, and he asked to be hers.

Nana’s mother had told her that people would ask to be her own someday. The same way that her mother had found her father and all her aunts and uncles. The same way Mami-nee and Chiyo-nee found their friends who loved them so very much.

Her mother cautioned her against accepting others immediately. Told her that she should wait and find someone who she felt that spark with, someone who she couldn’t deny _._

The man with the stormy eyes and nervous smile was named Yuudai, and she could feel a spark between them. Something bright and warm like the summer sun pressing down on them while he waited with baited breath for her answer.

She told him no.

Her mother said to wait for a pull she couldn’t deny, and nothing stopped her from denying Yuudai. She didn’t _want_ to deny him, but she could. So she did.

The renown assassin Razor Spear Yuudai leaves the little backwater town behind and, unknown to Nana, accepts a suicide mission the next day. Never to darken her doorstep again.

Years later, when she chooses to leave Kuroyama and go to school in the big cities that always seemed so strange and foreign in comparison to her little hometown. She will look back at that day and wonder what could have been if she had accepted the stormy young man who asked so kindly to be hers. Wonders if things would have turned out better then it had when she finally meets that someone she truly _couldn’t_ deny.

But those thoughts are for the future. After she meets Iemitsu at the small cafe where she is working as a waitress while going to school.

It is there, in the dim light near closing time that she finally finds that spark she thinks her mother spoke of so long ago. Bright and overwhelming and _demanding_.

She laughs in wonder at finally having found it after so long, and doesn’t try to deny him when he asks her on a date before she even takes his order. Doesn’t bother to deny him, because she can’t anyways.

In less then two months she is no longer Okumura Nana, and instead Sawada Nana. A happy housewife in a disconcertingly western-fusion styled house in a too big city with a baby on the way.

Iemitsu leaves before she even finishes unpacking all their belongings, called back to his faraway workplace for an unknown amount of time. She waves as he walks out the door, and something inside her cracks.

Nana receives a delivery over a week later that consists of a bag of Kuroyama rice and the well wishes of her family. They have increased in number to almost thirty people in the time she was away. Now with her little brother Daichi bringing home his own to join them all. Chiyo-nee is pregnant for the third time and confesses she isn’t sure which of her own is the father. It has apparently become a game for the family to take bets on.

She makes some of the Kuroyama rice and a bowl of miso soup to go with it, though she ends up making too much of both - still too used to cooking for so many. She writes back her congratulations to Daichi on finding his own, and happiness for her sister’s new baby.

Nana never writes to them again despite the bags of Kuroyama rice they continue to send her and the letters she doesn’t have the heart to read anymore.

Within a year of meeting Iemitsu, Sawada Nana develops what she will much later on learn is called Sky-Sickness, and is empty of the love and warmth that she had known her whole life.

She clings desperately to the little bundle of amber-joy she gives birth to one unusually warm October afternoon. Lets his tiny hands wrap around her fingers and basks in the knowledge that even if she is broken inside, at least her baby is bright and warm and wants her.

Her life is almost pleasant for the next five years, her Tsu-kun obviously takes after her family with his cautious eyes that edge amber when he’s upset or excited. He fills the house with his song and even though it’s a lonely song without the murmur of others to join it like in her childhood home. It is enough.

He is bright and joyus and it makes her heart _so happy_ when she takes her son to the local park and a little dark-haired boy with properly alert eyes devotedly follows her son around. Trying to give him a baseball as a trinket while they play - though her Tsu-kun misunderstands the gesture and thinks it’s part of the game.

Nana compliments the boy’s mother on her son’s manners, which makes Yamamoto Hitomi laugh and brush off the kind words. Merely claiming that her family is old fashioned and obviously their teachings must have rubbed off on her and her son. It’ll do her boy some good to play with a kindred soul anyways. Nana hums in agreement and Hitomi-san turns to greet her properly. Her sharp auburn eyes fading to a lovely lavender color that reminds Nana of wisteria. Nana can only smile sadly back, unable to return the greeting anymore. Her doe-brown eyes no longer able to bleed into sunset-orange.

Nana debates bringing Tsu-kun home to Kuroyama to meet her family after that conversation at the park. Hitomi-san’s son is a well mannered boy even though he lives in a bigger city then Nana feels comfortable in. Hitomi-san also claims she visits her family in Fujima over in Nara-ken often to get a little relief from hectic city life herself. Maybe it would do Tsu-kun and her some good to return to her home for a visit.

She never gets the chance to bring her baby home to meet his grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. Because as soon as she looks into booking the tickets needed to return to Akita-ken her front door opens and Iemitsu finally returns after so many years. A stranger in a garish hawaiian shirt in tow behind him.

Her years of living in Kuroyama makes her distrustful of strangers so close to what she considers hers, and she waits for the foreigner with his fake eyes hiding burnt umber to leave her house quickly

The stranger stays only long enough to _break_ her little boy, and in doing so destroys the last thing holding her down.

Iemitsu only smiles, and laughs, and demands a kiss that she has no will left to deny.

\------------------------------------------------------

Nana sighs softly as she cleans up the kitchen from breakfast, the soft morning light peeking through the kitchen window and reminding her that she needs to start the laundry if she wants to get it all done in time to hang it up for drying on the line.

Normally she’d have the children to help her with all this, but Tsuna had woken up this morning abnormally bright and early and told her that Fuuta, Lambo, and I-pin would probably be sleeping in. However he took it upon himself to help her make breakfast for those who were awake and start packing their bentos for the day as an apology for her lack of helpers.

Takeshi-kun had come down the stairs around the same time and immediately crowded her son’s space and slung an arm around Tsuna’s shoulders. Laughing about wearing the kids out for her so she could have a quiet morning. His smile wide and eyes comfortingly wary as he looks around the kitchen.

_(She is so happy to see Hitomi-san’s boy is back to following her Tsu-kun around. She had feared Tsu-kun being broken would negatively impact the little boy who seemed so fixated on her son all those years ago. But he seems okay now, even if he is a tad bit more possessive and dangerous then she remembers.)_

Hayato-kun makes his way downstairs not long after, looking oddly refreshed and lacking the usual hunched shoulders she’s come to associate with the boy. He gratefully accepts a bowl of rice from Tsuna and practically inhales it. The silver-haired teen is a heavy eater in the mornings she’s noticed, but he typically picks at food the rest of the day unless forced to eat by Tsu-kun or Takeshi-kun.

In the end Hayato-kun puts down two bowls of rice, a bowl of miso soup, and half an omelette before claiming he’s full. Tsuna tries to feed him more, but the stormy child hesitates to eat things not prepared in mass. Like he doesn’t want to them to have to go make more of food for him. Which she thinks is slightly rude, but chalks it up as a foreigner thing and lets it go. Takeshi-kun, on the other hand, eats like the athlete he is and seems to feel no guilt at holding out his bowl to ask for more of anything. More rice, more miso, more fish, more omelette. He eats like a healthy boy who burns through a lot of energy and someone who appreciates the food in front of him. He also insists on every bite he eats is returned in kind by Tsuna, watching her son with hawk-like eyes to make sure he refills his own bowls on top of Takeshi’s and only eating once Tsuna has started as well.

She’s gratified to see the boys manners are still intact after all these years.

_(Nana lets Tsuna be the one to hand him anything he wants. Takeshi is her son’s own after all. Tsu-kun should be the one taking care of his needs, even in this small way. She’s proud she doesn’t even have to nudge him to do it. Her little boy is eager to provide. Willing to feed his own until they burst if they let him. Such a good boy.)_

Eventually they all finish eating and bid her farewell as they head off to school, their heads all inclined towards each other as they furiously whisper something between themselves.

She smiles at their backs and tries not to cry as the beautiful song her son has been pouring out all night leaves with them. Sapping what little warmth she had felt in the hollow of her heart after so long of it being empty.

It’s fine though, her Tsu-kun will return after school and will bring back his steadily rising song with him. Maybe he’ll even bring over more of his friends to add their own warmth and melody to their little home!

She turns her attentions back to finishing the dishes, wrapped up in her own thoughts. Come to think of it she’ll probably need to pull out and wash some more blankets she has stored away in the master bedroom’s closet. Takeshi-kun’s has been on a tear trying to get her boy to settle properly for weeks now and he’ll appreciate the extras, even if they are the heavier blankets she usually only uses during winter. Hopefully they won’t be too hot for them to use...

“Dame-Tsuna is gone early this morning, eh Mamma?”

“Oh!” She spins around from the sink and meets the sharp coal eyes of her son’s tutor from where he is standing on the kitchen table. She smiles at him brightly. “Good morning, Reborn-san! Tsu-kun and his friends have already left for school, but I still have breakfast saved for you if you’re hungry. Would you like me to start some coffee?”

The man ( _he is no baby, even she can tell_ ) settles down onto the chair she keeps stacked with old phone books and a soft pillow for his use. “Food is always appreciated Mamma, especially from such a talented cook. And you know I adore your coffee, so yes to both.”

Nana blushes faintly and giggles at the compliments. She does so adore the tutor’s manners. Reborn is such a sweet talker, and always eager to tell her the things he truly likes and dislikes so that she can better provide for him.

She likes the suit-clad man not just for his manners - but also for what he’s done for her son.

Oh, Iemitsu sent him - she knows that - but the fact that with the coal-eyed man’s intervention her son has finally managed to fight off whatever twisted enchantment that gaijin broke her little boy with. Well, if she wasn’t broken herself she would have been willing to claim Reborn as her own in thanks.

But she is broken, and in some way she thinks Reborn-san is broken too. There is no inherit warmth or song that follows him, and even when it had been only herself and Tsuna in the house his addition had brought nothing to quell the silence. It wasn’t until Tsu-kun started bringing home potentials that were clumsily courting him that their house had even the faintest wisp of warmth in it again.

She had tried to reach out to him last night, when her son’s song was at its highest and she had felt her own dim warmth for the first time in almost ten years. Eager to reach out and touch in a way she hadn’t been able to for so long. Reborn-san hadn’t reacted to her gentle request at all, and Nana can’t say she is terribly surprised by that. Even if they are both broken, the tutor is only here temporarily to train her son. And if Iemitsu sent him, well...Reborn-san probably would rather be bound to her husband’s overwhelming swell then her own faint wisp anyways.

Nana would have liked for the sharp-eyed man to be one of her own - but she can accept his rejection gracefully. She owes him _so much_ for giving her son back his whole-self. The least she can do is provide and care for Reborn-san until he no longer needs her either. He’s earned that and more.

A cup of carefully brewed coffee and a bowl of Kuroyama rice with an egg yolk on top is sat gently in front of the tiny man. Reborn-san has a taste for tamago kake gohan despite his otherwise western preferences. When she had asked _why -_ he’d mentioned he liked how it looked like the sun breaking through the clouds.

The wistful way he said that makes her think it has to do with his own lack of warmth. He always mixes as much of the yolk with the rice as possible - trying to spread the yellow color until it coats all the white rice in the bowl. He doesn’t eat a bite until he manages it.

Nana doesn’t mention her own preferences for oranges and tangerines, and thinks that Reborn-san’s coal eyes would look very fetching ringed in shining gold.

Reborn eats like he has a black hole in his stomach and drains the entire coffee pot on his own. It’s nice to be called on so many times to refill his bowl with another helping of rice or to bring another omelette or some pickled vegetables. He doesn’t wait for her to eat with him, but she is pretty sure that must be a western thing as Hayato-kun and Lambo do the same. She doesn’t much mind it, and contents herself to provide for the man she can’t have as her own.

_(She makes a mental note to work on Lambo and Fuuta’s manners in this regard. I-pin is constantly snacking on her gyoza to keep her energy up, so that is likely a moot point with her dietary needs. But the two boys could use a lesson in good manners, if her son is willing to let her.)_

However, all good things must come to an end, and Reborn finally puts his chopsticks down to signal he is stuffed.

“Do you have any laundry for me to gather up Reborn-san? I’m going to start a load once I wash up from breakfast.”

The coal-eyed man tells her yes and then bounces down from his chair and onto the floor. “I’m off for the day, thank you for the lovely meal.” She waves at his tiny back and collects the dishes to put in the sink. Only idly wondering what Reborn-san could be up to all day while her son is in school. It isn’t her place to ask though, so she doesn’t.

Instead she packs away the leftovers from breakfast for when the children wake up and makes her way around the house to get the laundry.

When she gets to the children's room she is careful to quietly open the door and has to stop herself from squealing at the cute scene. All three of them are tangled together on the guest bed with Fuuta in the middle. Ah! If only she had a camera!

She leaves the three to snooze on. Takeshi-kun wasn’t kidding when he said they were wore out.

The other noticeable thing is the impressive blanket nest on the floor. She almost can’t stop the snort of amusement from escaping at the sheer scale of it. Goodness, they must have stolen every futon and vaguely soft thing in the house to build the thing. It’s almost bigger than the nest Koshiro-kun and Aya-chan built for Chiyo-nee when she started settling back in Kuroyama. Tsuna’s own must be very antsy indeed.

She straightens up the nest despite the scale. The linens still need to be washed, and if she is going to bring out the winter blankets for them the nest will have to be rebuilt anyways. It’s not a big deal.

It takes three trips to put all the blankets, futons, and pillows back to rights but she’s too amused by it all to feel even slightly annoyed at the extra work.

Once the wash is running she goes to pull out the stored winter blankets and takes them outside to hang on the line so she can beat off any dust that may have built up. This past winter was fairly mild and they’d stopped using these blankets around the house around mid february. So a good beating and airing wasn’t out of the question.

It is there, while hanging up a soft teal blanket full of down on the line that she spies a little bug sitting innocently on the post holding up her clothes line.

It is a mosquito.

She laughs and walks over to the little pest hanging around her backyard, leaning forward to inspect it.

The bug is unusually large and jet black with brilliant red eyes, its wings shimmer with a faint lilac sheen in the morning light. The real give away is the trident shaped ‘mouth’ on the creature.

“Well hello there, cutie.” She greets the bug, although it isn’t very cute at all. “Are you here to find Bianchi or Hayato-kun?”

The bug buzzes its wings and doesn’t move. She chooses to think the movement means ‘yes’.

“Ara...Hayato-kun has gone to school already, and Bianchi moved out a while back. I think she’s staying near Hayato-kun’s old apartment building. My Tsu-kun couldn’t get Hayato-kun to stay with us while his sister was living in the house.”

The mosquito buzzes again, but when she holds out her hand it lets go of the white pole it is hanging onto and lands on her palm almost daintily. Careful to keep its sharp mouth away from her skin.

“Give Bianchi my well wishes when you see her, okay?” She requests of the little bug, it buzzes at her and seems about to take off but she hastens to say one more thing. “Also Doctor, it would do Hayato-kun some good to see you checking on him in person sometimes. He’s a little prickly I’ll admit, but I know he would appreciate it.” She smiles at the suddenly unmoving bug in her palm. “The door is open when you’re ready. I hope your day goes well.”

The mosquito practically jumps out of her hand and buzzes away - though she thinks it is headed northward, which puts it on the path for Hayato’s old apartment building and near where Bianchi is now staying.

Nana sighs and goes back to shaking out the blankets and trying not to feel itchy at having touched the mosquito. Why did Illusionists always have to base their creations on such things? Her aunt Fukumi’s obsession with everything being related to snakes had been a nightmare to deal with.

She shakes off the thought and at least contents herself with the fact that _this_ illusion-creature was small enough to squash and not liable to be curled up hiding in her shoes.

Still...It would be nice if the Doctor would come pay a proper visit, he has only ever shown up long enough to tease Bianchi into chasing him for some slight, or to trade a quick barb with Hayato-kun after school. Nana has never even spoken face to face with the brunette foreigner considering every time he stepped foot inside the house he ended up dodging plates of food.

But the Doctor is obviously important to Hayato-kun and Bianchi, he wouldn’t be keeping such a close eye on them otherwise. She hopes the man will come meet her soon, especially if the boys are planning to settle in Namimori. She would hate for Tsu-kun to upset the silver-haired boy’s guardian, or whatever the man is. The Doctor and Hayato-kun certainly _looked_ similar, save for the coloring.

Oh well, it’s up to the Illusionist what to do. She isn’t going to leave her home to hunt him down and drag him back by the ear or anything. She knows better than to try and force someone into doing her will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was lovingly titled "Local baby accidentally rejects Hot Mom; more at 11."
> 
> Oh ho ho ho - you thought Nana was ignorant? You foolish fools! She ships it too! 
> 
> In the next chapter; Shamal notices things are weird in Namimori, and instead of talking to Reborn he decides to investigate. This goes about as well as you expect.


	5. Extended Forecast: Dense Fog Advisory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shows up six months late to my own fic without Starbucks.

Reborn is a shrewd man, as anyone who has spent more than four minutes in his presence will tell you. He makes plans inside of plans, and most of those plans either end in chaos, murder, or a delightful mixture of both.

But he never does anything without a reason - even if that reason is only to inspire mayhem and destruction. And even then, he usually has at least two ulterior motives to any decision he makes beyond the inherit pleasure of chaos.

So when he invited Gokudera Hayato to Japan to be dame-Tsuna’s first Guardian, that had been a choice he’d carefully weighed the pros and cons of. Debated the merits of the bomber’s skills versus his temperament and _almost_ found the silver-haired teen wanting

Before the former Falco heir met Tsuna there had been no indication the boy could be a proper subordinate. All Reborn’s contacts spoke poorly of the teen’s ability to work with others, and then they had spoken even _worse_ of his ability to take orders from those in power. The silver-haired boy seemed to chafe under the typical hierarchy of power the mafia world is known for, bucking against the status quo as much as he seemed desperate to find his niche inside it. Hayato was frighteningly talented, and smart as a whip - but he seemed chronically unwilling to dedicate his strengths to any familigia’s cause.

But what Reborn could get out of having Hayato close by outweighed the risks of the kid’s unsuitability. So he’d called for the teen to come to Japan anyways. Already planning contingencies for Tsuna should things go as poorly as the hitman feared they might.

It had all worked out in the end though, don’t get him wrong. Hayato had turned out to be an almost perfect candidate for Storm Guardian, and latched onto the Vongola heir like a burr. If anything the boy might be slightly _too_ zealous - Reborn was having to monitor the teen to ensure he wasn’t prone to Storm Frenzy. A Rain’s Fixation on their Sky was hard to control, and stopping a Lightning from Obsession was almost a moot cause, but Storm Frenzy could be just as deadly as Fixation if left to grow and Reborn had enough to worry about with Takeshi. He didn’t need to be combating Hayato in a Frenzy too.

Still, the bomber had been a calculated choice that turned out well. His student and the Storm bonded remarkably quickly for Tsuna still being sealed. _(Even with the bullets, the boys Flames were remarkably stubborn, they blazed forth for the few minutes the Dying Will Shots gave him, but then snuffed out immediately once the timer ran out. As if no damage had been done to the seal at all.)_ Their bond had inspired him to move on with his plans.

So he let his location slip to Bianchi, and waited.

Within days Bianchi touched down in Japan and came rushing to not only his side, but also her little brothers. Eager to put Tsuna through her own trial by fire to prove himself worthy of having not only the world’s greatest hitman’s attention, but also Hayato’s.

And barely a day later, unknown to everyone but Reborn who had calculated the man’s arrival down to almost the minute, another person appeared in tiny little Namimori. Hot on her heels.

Reborn knew combating Tsuna’s seal would be a grueling process, and he was likely to run into unexpected hiccups along the way. Unsealing a Sky after so many years was unknown territory. As the practice was typically only used on traitors and those for whom death was too good for.

What Nono wanted done was as close to requesting a miracle as Reborn could imagine. The Vongola Ninth would have probably faired better results praying to a higher power to give him what he asked for, but he had trusted in Reborn’s prowess to achieve the unexpected when he begged this favor. And Reborn was loath to walk away without giving it his all.

So that is why he needed a professional on hand. Someone with medical experience, Flame knowledge, and potentially someone to be a bodyguard for the last Vongola heir if it came to that.

So with that skill set in mind, Reborn needed one man in particular.

And the fastest way to lure Trident Shamal out of hiding was to first catch the attention of Hayato and Bianchi.

Coaxing both the Falco children to Japan with limited information available about _why_ they had taken off would drive the doctor crazy with worry. _(Though he was likely to kill Reborn if he heard him say that.)_ The Mist assassin was sure to come investigate what had drawn the siblings attention here to the land of the rising sun. Especially once it became obvious both the teens were in the same city for once.

Oh, the doctor was subtle about his worry-wart nature, but Reborn has been part of the game too long not to notice how the sibling’s enemies would suddenly go missing, or Familigias trying to hunt down Hayato for the reward for returning him would end up looking like biowarfare victims. Bianchi’s ex-lovers met particularly gruesome ends depending on how upset the pink haired girl was about their breakup. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Shamal might as well have planted a neon sign on their asses claiming ‘ _Property of Trident Shamal, Offenders will be Violently Murdered’_  for as subtle as he was about it at times.

_(Of course, the doctor had made public displays of rejecting the two. His most blatant being dismissing Hayato from being his protege. But that was mostly for show as far as Reborn could tell, likely meant to drive off any of the older assassin’s enemies from targeting the pair of up-and-coming hitmen in a bid for roundabout revenge on Shamal. It might have also been an attempt to get Hayato to stop using explosives as weapon, which if it was - it had backfired spectacularly.)_

Reborn just patted himself on the back for managing to lure out the Mist assassin, and let the doctor go on with his self-imposed duty of subtly protecting both the children he’d unofficially claimed as his own. Whether it was cloaking Hayato’s apartment in a Mist compulsion to drive off the local thugs from looting the boy’s apartment while he was at school. Or altering the memories of anyone who might have spied Bianchi’s cooking melting walls and street poles _(Or in many cases using his Mist Flames to reconstruct the damaged sites, which Reborn had to thank him for later.)_

But in the end, Reborn had been right. His attempts at cracking the seal were going poorly and he’d ended up giving the boy Skullitis of all things. A disease that could reportedly kill in as little as 2 hours.

He can only thank every obscure deity willing to listen he had taken the precaution of luring Shamal to Japan, because otherwise Nono would be out of luck on an heir.

Thankfully everything turned out well. Shamal saved Tsuna. Which was a small shock, considering Bianchi was pretty blatant with how obviously she was trying to keep the Mist-user distracted from saving dame-Tsuna’s life. Reborn had been mildly worried Shamal was going to go with her idea and not save the Vongola heir as the clock started ticking down. Shamal was possessive of his two hellions, and Reborn should have accounted for the Mist not wanting Hayato bound to a Sky he had not personally vetted.

In the end he’d acquiesced at the very last minute and saved Tsuna’s life. Sparring Hayato a broken bond, but earning some ire from the pink-haired girl in return.

Reborn had thought things were going according to plan after that interaction. Figured Shamal understood his role in this endeavour. That if he wanted to be close to Hayato and Bianchi he would need to help Reborn keep the future Decimo hale and healthy - because he was the tie keeping both the Falco children bound to Namimori for the moment.

It had seemed understood from Reborn’s perspective at least. The assassin settled in, got an apartment on the sly, took a job at the middle school, and could be found harassing Hayato after school or teasing Bianchi once every few weeks into chasing him around in a twisted game of tag. Reborn didn’t need the doctor to do much more then run interference on other assassins that could target Tsuna, and to occasionally help measure Tsuna’s Flame growth as - for obvious reasons - Reborn was unable to do so.

But as much as Reborn had assumed that he and Shamal had an unspoken accord, Reborn should have remembered one important fact. One key detail that would come back to haunt him when the pulse of Tsuna’s herculean Flames echoed across the city - twined so tight with Hayato’s Storm as to be one whole. Because when those Flames reached Shamal at his apartment in the early evening, whatever silent agreement they had shared was shattered with the dying light.

Because instead of reaching out to Reborn to find out what happened. ( _Which is what he should have done considering the problem dealt with Tsuna’s Flames)_. Instead the assassin did what he has always done when it comes to the Falco children.

He took stock of the situation first, and then buckled down to shield them both from the backlash. No matter if that backlash was from former employers, warring famiglias, ex-lovers, or potentially the _entire_ Vongola Family once word got out what had just happened.

Trident Shamal was here for his kids, and Reborn should have known that would come back to bite him in the ass in the end.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Shamal noticed something weird was happening in Namimori almost immediately.

You don’t get on the Varia’s potential recruitment list by being unobservant. Nor do you survive life as a notorious Mist assassin without paying special attention to your surroundings. Not when there are literally hundreds of people who would gladly put his head on a pike and do a little dance on his unmarked grave afterwards.

So yes, he noticed the oddities of this mostly unremarkable city off the bat.

The sheer amount of Flame active people in this town is mind boggling. The first time he stepped off the train while shadowing Bianchi to Namimori he had run past a baker’s dozen people on the cusp of becoming Flame active, and at least six _fully active_ Flames. All of them just at the train station alone. One of which he is 100% positive was the renowned former black-widow, Topaz Spider Tomoko.

 _(He’d had immediately hidden behind a Mist veil and panicked for a solid minute when he spotted the Topaz Spider in Namimori. The red-haired woman was not someone he would easily forget. Her lethality rate had been staggering in her heyday - and considering he’d made the stupid decision to try his luck with the lovely assassin many years ago. He was half convinced she was here to kill him to remove the black-mark from her record that him being alive represented. Shamal then had a_ **_real_ ** _panic attack when he realized Tomoko was dressed as a housewife, with a ring on, and was chatting with another housewife about her son’s upcoming science fair. Oh good God, the Topaz Spider had been **breeding.** ) _

After that incident he ran across more and more people that he knew. All of them assassins and hitmen that hadn’t been seen in years. Most of whom Shamal had written off as dead long ago. They had all treated him wearily, and a few were stupid enough to attack him outright. But nothing that was any real threat with his skillset. It was more the shock of seeing so many known faces that gave them any real advantage in their short fights.

His first _real_ brush with death in Namimori is at the hands of Hibari Lin.

None of his contacts in Italy had bothered to inform him the damned _Triads_ were operating in Japan now for some reason, and he hadn’t thought to hide his presence beyond a thin mist construct while scoping out Namimori Middle now that Hayato was attending public school for the first time in his life.

_(He would never, ever, admit that he was a little worried some of the staff might also be former mafia. Who could potentially recognize the silver-haired teen and try to sell him out to the Falco’s for money. Because like hell was he gonna let some backwater hitman ruin years of work shielding the boy from his rat-bastard of a father.)_

The attack had been a surprise, and Hibari Lin was relentless in her bid to cave in his skull through blunt force trauma. Shamal had tried to stop their fight before they tumbled into Hayato’s new school and had jokingly told the woman - in between dodging swings of her staff - that he didn’t want to interrupt his brat’s lessons since class had just started. The Triad assassin had looked him him oddly for a minute before nodding and informing him to keep off the school grounds without a visitors pass, as her son would be less forgiving then she was about his intrusion. Then she’d left - like she hadn’t been trying to beat him to death with a bo-staff two seconds ago.

Shortly after the fight with Hibari Lin, Shamal had been investigating Hayato’s new baseball playing friend when lo’ and behold, the bomber’s new _friend_ ended up being the son of _Bloody-fucking-Rain Tsuyoshi_.

Shamal had been pretty sure the Bloody Rain was dead considering Superbi’s transcontinental murder spree - It had been an understandable assumption to make - and finding out the man _wasn’t_ dead, and was very much still in possession of at least _one_ of his many cursed-fucking-swords had been an unpleasant way to be proven wrong.

At least that fight had ended with a sort of understanding between the two of them. The swordsman’s son and Shamal’s second favorite brat shared a prospective Sky, so they had grudgingly agreed not to murder one another for the boy’s sakes. Although Tsuyoshi seemed to be laboring under the delusion that Hayato was his _son_ or something insane like that.

Then he’d accidentally locked eyes with the Topaz Spider while flirting with a cashier at a supermarket a week or two later. He was there shadowing Bianchi while she tore through the store trying to find ingredients to cook with. Shamal was just there to subtly remove anything Bianchi touched and didn’t buy so no one would accidentally die. He and Tomoko had both frozen in place and stared at one another for a long minute when it happened, before Tomoko’s attention was stolen away by a glasses-wearing redhead at her side who just _had_ to be her son. Tomoko had muttered something to the boy and hit him with a bit of Sun Dazzle to distract him before sliding a knife into her hand from the sleeve of her sweater. Obviously intent on Shamal’s murder.

The only thing that saved Shamal from having to fight a very protective and vengeful Topaz Spider was him helplessly pointing at Bianchi and trying to convince Tomoko, without words, he did not want to fight in the supermarket and draw the pink-haired girls attention. Tomoko had looked back and forth between Shamal and Bianchi before mouthing the words _“Your daughter?”_ at him.

His pained grimace at the words had apparently been taken as agreement, and the Topaz Spider had smiled and gone on her merry way as if nothing had happened. Dragging her nauseated looking son to the checkout line to buy their groceries without a second look his way.

But that incident was what really made Shamal notice just how batshit crazy this town was. Triad Assassins, Infamous Black-Widows, Master Swordsmen. All of them with children and pretending to be _oh so normal_ civilians, all in the same city. Each of them willing to murder him on sight just to continue the little fantasy they were playing.

Shamal had only survived these attacks because for some fucked up reason, all these former ( _and not so former in Hibari Lin’s case_ ) killers thought he also had kids and was here with them. They had all stopped cold when he brought up his two brats like he hit the pause button in a video game. And considering that Tsuyoshi had a couple of swords that _literally_ hungered for blood, and the Topaz Spider had a vendetta against him - something was going on here. Something fucking weird.

So after grudgingly healing Hayato’s tiny little wisp of a Sky, Shamal had done the obvious thing and settled into the town to keep watch, obstinately sticking around to keep an eye on his two idiots before they got involved in something over their heads again.

He bought an apartment, took the job at Hayato’s school as a nurse to keep a closer eye on the hot-headed little punk he unfortunately felt affection for, and tried his hand at domesticy for the second time in his life.

And every single time someone from his past showed up out of the woodworks. Whether it was the mafia’s former premier lawyer Kurokawa Yuuri, coming to pick up his decidedly Cloudy daughter from the school nurse's office when she was ill. Or one of Verde’s escaped Flame-techs masquerading as math teacher with his cute little Lightning daughter that hangs around Hayato’s band of friends. Each time someone crossed his path and recognized him for who he is, he managed to stop every fight dead. All he had to do was say something like-

 _“Can we do this later? I need to go find my brats.”_ Or “ _Look, I’m not here to fight, I’m just shopping for my hellions.”_

And every single time people would make a complete 180, and suddenly it was _just fine_ for him to be in the town. He could shop for groceries without being harassed. _(Except by damned Tsuyoshi, who seemed to think they were friends now for some reason.)_ Could talk with his neighbours without them attempting to stab him. _(Well his upstairs neighbour had attempted to shiv him with a pen, but the former Yakuza woman had waited until he started flirting before attacking. So he chalked that one up to his amorous advances instead of his profession.)_ He could even go down to the local bar and have a few stiff drinks after work if he wanted. The bartender was a former Triad enforcer who apparently had been given a good word by Hibari Lin on his behalf. Which meant his drinks were half priced and not poisoned, both bonuses.

If it wasn’t for just how weird it was for people to recognize him and _not_ be trying to kill him, Shamal would have to admit that Namimori was a pretty nice little town.

But there was some weird shit about the town that he just can’t overlook. Like the frankly startling lack of chain-stores. Despite Namimori’s middling size and population, it lacks a hell of a lot of conventional shops he would have expected to see in a town this size. Hell, Shamal doesn’t think he’s been to a city without a McDonalds _ever_ in his life _,_ the damned hamburger chain is a disease even he can’t defeat. Yet somehow, sleepy little Namimori has no major chains. Not even America’s greatest hamburger infestation.

However, weirder than there being no chains stores in Namimori at all, is that those chains _had_ existed in the city at one point. The shells of those businesses might be converted into ‘family owned’ shops now, but the outline of names can still be seen on some shopfronts. Not to mention the fact that pictures and news articles from less than 15 years ago had shown the city filled up by common sites like 7-11 convenience stores and some weird brand of beef-bowl fast food that was crazy popular around the country. And yes, even a McDonalds.

Something had changed in the past 15 years. Something big enough to shake the very foundation of the city and drag infamous killers from hither and yon to the epicenter. Where they booted out the corporate entities and carved themselves _(probably literally in most cases)_ a space in the fabric of the city.

He meant it, everything seemed to be run by hitmen and swordmasters. The flower shops, the convenience stores, the restaurants, damn near everything seemed to be ‘family owned’ business operated by former killers. Even the little bakery around the corner from his apartment called ‘ _A Slice of Heaven_ ’ was run by a smiling woman who, before she was slicing up cakes, was known for some pretty grisly knife work of another kind.

Who the hell decided Namimori was the place for Shamal’s generation of lowlifes to come and play house at?

And _why_ did he not get whatever mass message everyone else apparently had received?

( _He refuses to admit that if he had caught wind that a town like Namimori existed 10 years ago he would have been here quick as a flash. It would have been too tempting for him to resist at the height of his frustrations with the Falco Famiglia. He knows he would have stolen away with Hayato and Bianchi in his arms and settled into the city without a single regret if he’d known it was an option. He could have been just one more of the many killers in Namimori, desperate to pretend at normality. Just another murderer who carved out a little space in the city. Maybe he’d even have an actual medical practice for once. Could have spent a decade saving lives instead of ending them. Could have spared his hellions the horrors of the mafia. If only he had known..._ )

His frustrations with what is happening in the town are only aided by his own unease when he starts to notice his two brat’s schedules changing suddenly. His mosquitoes keep reporting that Bianchi isn’t returning to the Sawada residence after multiple weeks and Shamal’s Mist wards on Hayato’s apartment are only registering the brat returning for a handful of minutes at a time before leaving again. Add that to the fact Tsuyoshi keeps texting him to come over to TakeSushi and drink with him since his son isn't home and he’s feeling blue, ( _Shamal snorts. Like hell is he going to do that. One; Tsuyoshi is a man, and Shamal only goes drinking with ladies. Two; they are not friends, how did Tsuyoshi even get his number? Three; the swordsman is in possession of a collection of bloodthirsty swords, and Shamal doesn’t want to know what cursed weapons plus alcohol will equal._ ) So he can admit to being a tad anxious about what all the changes to everyone's schedule might mean.

It’s a Mist thing alright, he doesn’t like any situation to be outside his control. Especially not one that might negatively impact his hellions. He has spent a lot of time, effort, and other people’s blood to make sure they are mostly safe and healthy. This whole situation makes him itch. He has almost absconded with the two demon-spawn more then once since he got here, and with the way things are going right now it makes him almost wish he had given into the impulse. The three of them could be on a tropical _mist-obscured_ island right now. Far, far away from whatever insanity this city - and Reborn - was bound to pull them all into.

As it stands though, that isn’t an option. So as he returns to his posh little apartment after a day of enduring the wandering Flames of far too many Flame Active children all crammed into one school. He is just barely past the door when he feels something in the air.

A wave of Flame crashes through Shamal. Bright, terrified, joyous, devoted, too big and too wide to belong to who he thinks it does. He has to physically brace himself against his front door as the wake threatens to pull him down. Eyes wide and sightless as his own Mist Flames reach out to try and snatch at the Flames. Trying to claw in and anchor to the pulse of Sky despite how Shamal most definitely _does not_ want to actually do that.

But the Flames roll on bare moments later, not staying long enough for Shamal’s rebelling Mist to latch on despite the fervor that they try to. Shamal feels physically winded after the Flames leave him. Staring at his dark apartment interior and unable to comprehend what just happened.

Because for one moment, he had been completely and utterly sure that mixed and twined with those terrifying Sky Flames that just echoed past had been Hayato’s own burning Storm.

Oh God, what has that brat done now?

He stumbles into his apartment, limbs rebelling at the movement, and throws himself onto the closest piece of furniture that can support his weight. Which happens to be the larger end of his sectional couch, so at least it’s a comfortable piece of furniture and not his coffee table. He doesn’t even move his face from where it is smashed into the couch cushions, allowing the threat of suffocation to slowly build while his brain spins in confused circles. Trying to figure out what in the seven hells just happened.

Those were Hayato’s Flames. Shamal has known those Storm Flames since the boy was born. Since he was nothing more then a tiny red-faced babe swaddled in murky grey blankets. A baby who had a penchant for crying at all hours if he wasn’t being held. And the honor of _that_ annoyance had fallen on the doctor more often than not, considering Lavina was booted from the estate immediately after the boy’s birth and _Donna_ Falco wanted no part of her husband’s bastard. Shamal had cradled the silver-haired boy in his arms and wrapped in his Mist Flames for most of his formative years. He’d been the one to coax the boy’s Flames away from destruction when he cried as a toddler and tried to disintegrate his toys. He had guided Hayato’s Storm to burn away infections in scrapes when he fell over while learning to walk. _He_ was the one who taught the boy how to bring his Flames to the surface and ring his green eyes in vibrant crimson. Just like Lavina had insisted he learn to do during one of her few allotted visits he’d been around for.

Shamal knows the brat’s Flames better than he does his own probably.

There is no doubt in his mind that was Hayato’s Storm. Mixed and twined with what he can only assume is the Vongola’s Sky. The crushing force of them both blowing through the city like the shockwave from a bomb going off.

Shamal pulls himself out of his couch cushions with a grunt, mind already starting to put the pieces together because no matter how stupid he may act sometimes, he isn’t actually an idiot. He’s noticed all the weird shit about this town. The Flame activity, the mom-and-pop stores, the police bending to the will of the Hibari Clan without question. The ludicrous amount of killers, and the children of said killers, all swarming the little Vongola Sky like flies to honey. Everyone in Namimori who seems to be waiting on a razors edge for the push towards something huge. Something to do with the city and the Sky within it. Something like a wave of pure Sky Flames tangible and enchanting to anyone within the range of his span.

He chokes at his own thoughts, eyes widening. _No,_ no way, no he has to be wrong. There is no way that that little waif of a Sky that his hellion basically worships could be strong enough to pull something so magnificently stupid. The seal had only just bust like a dam a few weeks ago, it shouldn’t be possible that the Vongola could be ready for anything of this magnitude so soon after being unleashed.

Shamal flips over on the couch so that he is laying more comfortably on his back. The position doubly helpful as it makes him less inclined to try and suffocate himself to death to escape from the dread beginning to rise from low in his stomach. But he willfully ignores the impulse to bury his head back in the pillows like an ostrich and instead reaches into his pocket and unlocks a capsule full of mosquito drones he keeps handy for spying. Directing the bugs with his Mist to fan out across the city and find his _stupid-fucking-brats_ before someone notices what the hell just happened and gets the bright idea to investigate.

That done, he reaches into the other pocket of his coat and pulls out his cellphone and stares at it blankly for a minute. Unsure who - if anyone - he can call about this. Because if his hunch is right, this is going to end up becoming a clusterfuck of unimaginable proportions.

He _should_ contact Reborn, the little sadist would doubtlessly like to know that his student is pulling some ridiculous shit that is going to cause the Vongola a massive headache very, very soon.

But as he stares at the number for the World’s Great Hitman, _capitals very much necessary._ Shamal feels something dark and vengeful well inside him. The same cruel feeling he gets whenever he thinks about the Falco Famiglia and what they did to his two hellions after sending him away. Services no longer needed - or more accurately, wanted - as they distrusted having a Mist in their midst. Despite how he had practically raised the Don’s children himself since the bastard of a man and his harpy-wife couldn’t be bothered to do more then assign a nanny for the two, one ill equipped to deal with two Flame-Active toddlers with destructive properties. It’s the same possessive feeling that has him experimenting on Bianchi’s Ex-lovers. The fools that are barely worthy to kiss her boots and that think they can get away with hurting his little girl. With using her instead of loving her like they should be honored to do.

Reborn is the reason his hellions are here, in the epicenter of what is about to become a disaster zone and will doubtlessly be endangered due to their proximity to the Vongola Sky.

It is _Reborn’s_ _fault_ that Hayato and Bianchi are here, all because he wanted to lure in Shamal for his own means. Use the doctor just like everyone else always tries to use him. Like the Falco used him to cover up their Don’s infidelity and then tossed him aside when they were done with him. Spurned him when he willingly offered to bend his knee and kiss the Falco Familigia’s ring so he could remain with the two damned children that had stolen into his heart despite his best efforts to remain impassive to their eyes, and smiles, and how their Flames reached for his when they were scared. Sure he would keep them safe from anything.

Well, he won’t let that happen this time. He isn’t here for Reborn’s sake. He isn’t here to be used and thrown away when he isn’t convenient anymore. He is here for his brats, for Hayato and Bianchi, and if his fool-headed boy is going to bind himself to this damned Sky and cause all hell to break loose in this city? Then God damn it, Shamal doesn’t have a lot of options beside doing damage control and minimizing the fallout as best he can. And to do that he needs to figure out what the hell is _really_ happening here in Namimori. How are contract killers, their children, chain-stores, and one formerly-broken sky all connected.

So he vindictively flicks past the hitman's number. - Let the tiny bastard figure it out when things start to fall apart around his ears. - Instead he lands on a number near the bottom that is simply labeled as _‘Ignore!!’._ And after a moment of very serious deliberation _(and calling himself a damned idiot in every language he knows)_ he finally presses the button to call the number. Half praying the man on the other end doesn’t pick up so he doesn’t have to think about what he is about to do.

“Hello!” Comes a far too chipper voice over the phone after four rings, Shamal can practically hear the grin in the man’s voice. “Yamamoto Tsuyoshi speaking.”

Shamal fights back the urge to groan and forces himself to not just hang up immediately. “Tsuyoshi-” He starts, but he only manages to get the man's name out before he is cut off by the swordsman.

“Shamal!” Tsuyoshi practically yells. Causing Shamal to flinch and almost drop the phone at the unexpected volume. “I was about to call you! Congratulations!”

Shamal splutters incomprehensibly for a moment, choking out a “Wh-what?!” that is completely ignored by the other man who continues to chat on. “I can’t believe your boy was the one to get pulled in first. Takeshi’s known Tsunayoshi for years, I was so sure he was going to be the one to start it. Boy is fixated enough you’d think he was already settled.”

Shamal only vaguely catches what the man is prattling about, the half of him that is a trained physician latches onto the part of the man’s words where he mentioned that his son was fixated, as in his son has _Rain Fixation_ , as in one of the most crippling neuroses known to the Flame Mafia and vetted for extensively by most dons before they accept a Rain into their set. Fixated Rains are dangerous to those around their fixation.

Squalo Superbi is a fantastic example of a Fixated Rain. One deathly loyal to his Sky and willing to go to any extreme for him. He is infamous for refusing to cut his hair, losing his arm, running the Varia like a private army and _blatantly_ plotting to gut Timoteo di Vongola for daring to steal Xanxus from him. No one is safe from the sword emperor's wrath.

And his brat’s Sky has a Fixated Rain _as a Guardian!_

Tsuyoshi keeps talking despite Shamal’s ominous silence on the other end of the phone. “You should come over so we can celebrate! I have a bottle of shōchū from Nara prefecture that I’ve been meaning to open.” Shamal is about to interrupt the restaurant-owners congratulation laced tangent to try and get some answers, when the air around him starts to ripple ominously again.

It isn’t just around him either apparently, because Tsuyoshi’s voice cuts off suddenly, as if the other man has noticed something happening on his end of the phone. An odd pressure building in the air, and a silent force thundering their way.

Shamal’s eyes widen and he only has half a second to think _‘Oh shit, not again.’_ Before he is choking under a tidal wave of Sky and Rain and Storm. The song between them a hurricane force that calls out to his Mist, and once more he is powerless to stop himself from trying to latch onto the swell. Unable to gain a foothold in the bare moments he has underneath that blinding chorus of Devotion and Harmony and Home. The new note in the song is possessive, a lullaby meant to send those who hear it to sleep, safe under the growing song. A temptation that whispers against his Mist in the brief moment he can hear it. A call to stay, to sleep, to settle. An invitation and a warning all together. And if Shamal had been younger the call might have actually _put_ him to sleep from the unexpected heavy handed application of Rain Flame.

Tsuyoshi makes a choking noise over the phone, and Shamal comforts himself by not being the only one blindsided by what can only be the swordsman’s son joining the Vongola’s Flames the same way his own brat had done.

“Maa, that boy…” Tsuyoshi mutters as the swell passes them by as fast as it had crashed into them. “Absolutely no subtly, I swear.” Despite his complaints Shamal can hear the man starting to smile again, laughter bubbling up excitedly over the line. “But look at that, Shamal! Both our boys in one night! Haha!”

Shamal is absolutely done with the swordsman already. “Right, yes that. I have some questions about this. _..thing._..that is happening…” He trails off not sure if he should reveal that he is confused or pretend like he totally understands what is going on and subtly dig for answers. He is very aware that his acceptance in this crazy community is completely dependent on his relation to ‘his children’ as the citizens of Namimori understand it. By flaunting his ignorance he might trip an unknown switch in the population and have them turn on him for some imagined slight.

Tsuyoshi snorts on his side of the line. “I know, It was hard for me to understand at first and I had my wife around to explain it. But come on, we should celebrate! If you meet me at Izakaya Hinkaku and let me buy us a few rounds I’ll let you pick my brain for answers.” The man’s tone is sly, not even attempting to hide how much he wants to finally get the doctor to agree to get drinks with him. It’s only the fifth time he’s asked since he somehow got Shamal’s number.

Shamal is slightly torn. On one hand he is being offered free information about _what the everloving fuck_ is going on in this city, on a silver platter at that, by Tsuyoshi. Who is refreshingly straightforward for a former hitman and unlikely to dodge around the questions Shamal will ask. Especially after a few drinks, as the man has proven to be the emotional sort when intoxicated. If his texting while ‘feeling blue’ is any indication.

On the other hand he will be breaking one of his avowed rules and going out to drink, in public no less, with a man. A crazy man, with _cursed-fucking-swords._ He feels like he needs to reiterate that point. The man has blood-hungry cursed swords. One of which is rumored to be the original sword that belonged to the legendary Asari of the Vongola. Shamal has zero interest in discovering the truth on that front. The Muramasa blade he fought against Tsuyoshi with was more then enough of a pain in the ass to deal with. He doesn’t want to know what kind of insanity a blade that was forged for the Vongola’s first Rain could create.

But to get the information he needs to save his brats he is going to have to go and drink with an emotional man who could be partly possessed by an ancient Flame-forged sword. Or four of them, he does not know how many cursed swords Tsuyoshi has. Just that he has them, people used to be very scared of that fact. And that, again it needs to be said, those swords hunger for blood.

Damn his brats to the deepest hells for this, they better appreciate the stupid shit he does for them.

“Izakaya Hinkaku you say?” He knows the stupid place of course, it’s the same bar that he frequents after work. The one with the former Triad enforcer pouring heavy-handed shots and not poisoning his drinks. The one that he’s noticed the heaviest concentration of Flame-active former killers frequent. Of course that would be the bar Tsuyoshi would chose. The one full of people who might kill him for his ignorance.

Shamal can practically feel the smug happiness oozing through his phone. “Yes, give me 30 minutes to close up early and change. I think I might need to wake up come of my customers too, my boy was pretty heavy with the Rain Flames and I think Suzuki-san is asleep in her sashimi. I’ll see you there!”

Shamal is startled when the line goes dead instead of him waiting for a reply. Maybe Tsuyoshi didn’t want to give Shamal the chance to change his mind?

He can’t help but snort, Rains, absolutely ridiculous.

He pockets his phone and takes a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down before he forces himself to get the hell up. He needs to change out of the clothes he wore to the school if he is going out. He’ll need to pick something a little less conspicuous then his doctor’s coat unless he wants half the bar staring at him like they normally do.

He’s hoping for subtly while he grills Tsuyoshi for answers, because if he tries weaving Mist Flames too heavily around them while at the bar someone was likely to notice. Probably one of the other Mists that frequent the establishment. Because if Shamal knows anything about Mist-users its that they are all nosy sons-of-a-bitches who can’t help but pry where they aren’t wanted. He would know, he is usually the nosy son-of-a-bitch in question.

So in a fit of grim humor he swaps out of his button up top to a soft sweater in a shade of grey that could rightfully be called _misty_ and some dark pants to match. Tying the ensemble off with a light spring jacket in a darker shade of grey that has deceptively deep pockets. The pockets are the main point of his coat choice, as they will be useful for concealing a couple of scalpels and some of his more insidious capsules of mosquitoes. If the night ends in a bar fight for his life he wants to go in armed. Tsuyoshi might be willing to fight with him, since the man is convinced of their friendship, but Shamal does not want to risk borrowing a weapon from the man. Nope, not touching any of the man’s swords.

He shakes off the thought because he almost thought about a _different_ kind of sword Tsuyoshi might offer him, and he wants even less to do with that one then he does with the swordsman’s cursed blades. Nope. Nope. No.

He takes an extra second to stop by the mirror in his bathroom and tie his hair up into a short ponytail and put his glasses on. Just to break up his usual silhouette and hopefully blend in better. With his glasses on he looks almost like a different person he’s been told. Less like a lecherous doctor infamous for the death of hundreds, and more like - _in the words of a 6 year old Bianchi_ \- a smart and nice prince that rescues princesses with medicine.

The pink-haired child may have been biased by some of the bed time stories Shamal told her. Who knows? Hopefully it will be enough to dissuade people from staring at him all night while he pours alcohol down the crazy sushi-chef’s gullet for answers.

He casts one last look in the mirror, and mutters a curse that he can't believe he is letting himself be dragged into this stupidity. Before he grabs his keys, wallet, and phone and leaves the apartment to make his way to the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually split into two parts because it is so got-damn long. 
> 
> Please let me know of any errors, because I am not rereading this bit for the 9000th time.
> 
> In the Next chapter; Shamal goes to the bar, makes some friends, and maybe plots a murder. What fun!


	6. Extended Forecast: Approaching Supercell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strap in lads, this is going to be a ride.

When Shamal finally arrives - after having dragged his feet the whole way, almost turned back twice, and debated the merits of sending a Mist construct in his place no less than six times - he is fashionably late by an hour, and surprised by how busy Izakaya Hinkaku is tonight. The usual laid back bar, with it’s muted colors and typical Japanese style, is packed tight with enough Flame Active people to remind Shamal of some parties he went to while attending the Mafia Academy in his teenage years. It is a stupid amount of people to be at a bar on a weeknight.

Behind the long bar on the other side of the room there are two bartenders mixing drinks for the parties packed inside. One of the bartenders is Shamal’s usual man, the grizzled Triad enforcer with his buzzed hair and nose that was definitely broken more than once. His face is set in it’s usual thin lipped scowl, and just like normal he looks up only long enough to see who made the bell ring at the doorway. And when he sees it is Shamal standing there he gives a short nod and goes back to mixing drinks.

The other bartender is much younger, probably not much older then Hayato honestly, and most likely brought in to help with the unusually busy night. He has short black hair that looks like it is just starting to regrow after cutting all of it off sometime ago. His eyes are sharp and narrowed in annoyance at someone ordering a pitcher of beer in front of him. And Shamal notices he shares the older bartenders thin lipped scowl, plus the sharp jut of his jaw. Their noses look nothing alike of course, but that is one of the few differences between the two.

Shamal almost throws his hands up in defeat. Of course, even his fucking bartender has a kid.

He looks around and can’t find or sense Tsuyoshi in the establishment. It had seemed impossible for the man to close up his whole restaurant in 30 minutes anyways, Shamal should have known the man had lowballed the number on the phone. Especially since he would be waking up his patrons from their unexpected naps and trying to herd them out. Damn the man, he probably knew Shamal would drag his feet here and made sure that they would arrive closer to each other by purposefully lying. The bastard.

So he decides to make his way over to the crowded bar instead of standing around like an idiot. He might as well order now since it's so busy. It might be awhile before the two bartenders can get to his order. And he would rather be fortified by alcohol before he delves into trying to figure out what the hell is going on in this crazy town.

He slides up to the bar, and shoots the pale-haired lady sitting on a chair next to him a charming smile. Oddly reminded of Lavina’s silver locks as he looks at her, though her hair is closer to white then Hayato’s mothers hair was. And the cute pixie cut is miles away from Lavina’s long flowing locks.

The white-haired woman looks up at his approach and Shamal sees the moment when she recognizes him, but instead of the usual reactions he expects. Either screaming at him for being a known pervert, screaming because he is a known murderer, or the rare - but infinitely preferred -  reciprocated flirtation. He gets none of those. Instead she lights up like festival fireworks and shouts - slightly drunkenly he might add - for the whole bar to hear. “TRIDENT SHAMAL! YOU LUCKY BASTARD!”

Shamal rears back at the lungs on the woman, not having expected that level of volume from her tiny frame.

“Ahaha…” He laughs nervously, because now people are looking at him. Which is exactly what he did not want. “You have me at a disadvantage, lovely. I’m afraid I don't have the pleasure of knowing you name.” Or why she was shouting at him...

She smiles at him slightly blearily, and spins on her stool to face him better, but she starts to slip instead. Shamal immediately tries to keep her from falling off the stool. What kind of gentlemen would he be if he let a lovely lady hit the floor of the bar, after all? But before he can manage to right the white-haired woman back into her seat she is steadied by a large hand on her shoulder from beside her.

Shamal darts his eyes to the man next to her, and fights not to rear back because he is _huge._ A bear of a man that looks like he could snap Shamal in half like a toothpick. He has short orange-reddish hair, chocolate brown eyes, and rough knuckles that imply he uses his fists _a lot._ But despite the giant man’s burly appearance. And his frankly ludicrous muscles that bulge underneath his plain white shirt, he has a muted smile on his face. As if he is completely used to the tiny woman’s antics.

“Natsuka dear, indoor voice. At least wait till the poor mans had something to drink before you start on him.” His voice is just as gruff as his body lead Shamal to think it would be, but the fondness in his tone is entirely unexpected.

The woman, Natsuka apparently, nods her head gamely at the giant man and turns back to Shamal with a contrite smile. “Sorry about that!” She apologizes, honestly not much quieter than before, but she shifts gears immediately after her apology. Returning to whatever she was on about when she was screaming excitedly in his face “I can’t believe it! You are so lucky you know that! Oh my gosh, let me buy you a drink, yeah! You totally deserve a drink!” She scrambles to face forward again and starts to wave at the busy bartenders. Her coordination obviously off from the alcohol she’s already had, but it does little to dim the woman's spirit. The giant man just shakes his head and lets Natsuka wave her arms like a bird trying to take flight.

The giant instead turns to Shamal, and he bows his head in greeting behind the flailing woman. “Sasagawa Ryouto, nice to meet you.” The red-head inclines his head slightly towards the small white-haired woman beside him. “This is my wife, Natsuka. She is also very excited to meet you.”

“I can tell…” Is Shamal’s slightly dazed response. He knows that name. Two of the kids that flutter around his brat’s Sky have that last name. Both active Suns, though the boy - their son? - is absolutely insane. His constant low level Dying Will mode makes Shamal nervous. The sheer amount of willpower needed to remain in that state is terrifying to think about. “Uhh..Trident Shamal by the way, sorry. It's nice to meet you both” He bows back slightly to the giant - Ryouto - and has to move to dodge a stray hand that almost smacks the glasses right off his face as Natsuka rears back to try and get more height so she can be seen by the bartenders that appear to be purposefully avoiding acknowledging the squirming woman. 

Shamal is not sure what he should do in this situation, should he stay and wait for the woman to get him a drink? Or apologize to her husband and maybe go wait outside for Tsuyoshi? Thankfully the choice is taken away from him as a familiar - though not by choice - wash of Rain Flames appears at the edge of his senses seconds before a heavy arm curls around his shoulders. Pulling him back from the bar just enough that Natsuka’s wild hands miss knocking off his glasses again for the second time in 30 seconds. Not that Shamal will thank the man for the save.

“Tsuyoshi!” He barks, aghast that the man dared to touch him. He writhes under the arm, trying to escape the overly friendly gesture. God damn it, if Tsuyoshi is already going to be stupidly touchy-feely then Shamal does not want to know what will happen after he gets a few shots in him. “Let go of me you insane man.”

Tsuyoshi’s laugh is delighted, and he squeezes tighter for a brief second. A second that Shamal legitimately debates stabbing him in between the ribs with a scalpel. But the man wisely lets go before the doctor can actually murder him for taking such liberties with his being. No matter how much he needs answers, he is not going to let some stupidly tall crazy swordsman _cuddle_ him. Hell fucking no.

“Shamal, you actually came!” Tsuyoshi grins as he releases the Mist-user, either purposefully ignoring how the brunette man is two seconds away from gutting him, or waiting for the attempt eagerly. It is a very real possibility the swordsman is looking to pick a fight and feed his stupid swords.

Reminded of the fact that Tsuyoshi is insane, and - as he cranes he head slightly to the side - definitely carrying the same stupid-fucking-cursed Muramasa sword they had already dueled with once before. The one that had confirmed that the man was indeed the infamous Bloody-Rain Tsuyoshi and not some copycat. Shamal forces himself to not do anything too rash.

He needs answers, not to indulge the sushi-chef in senseless carnage.

Absolutely ridiculous Rains. All of them.

“Of course I did, not like you didn’t twist my arm about this or anything.” Shamal hisses at the swordsman who is still standing too close for his tastes. Although it could honestly be blamed on how tightly packed the area around the bar is. Tsuyoshi is smiling down at him, and Shamal absently notes the other man's smile is not as bright as his sons. It’s more a wry grin. Too many teeth on display to be completely comfortable.

“Maa, but you finally agreed!” Tsuyoshi moves to Shamal’s other side and gestures for the Mist to follow him. Leading him past the Sasagawa couple with a short wave that only Ryouto returns since Natsuka is halfway out of her seat and trying to get the younger bartender’s attention by shouting _“Mochida Kensuke! I know you see me child! I will come over there, yeah!”_ over the dull roar of voices in the bar. The dark-haired teen shoots her a sour look from where he is still making pitchers of beer for the patrons of the bar, and that is all Shamal sees of the interaction as he is led away.

Tsuyoshi steers them towards a few seats still available at the tables in the back. The ones that honestly make Shamals knees hurt to even look at, because he is absolute _shit_ at sitting in seiza for more the five minutes at a time. So the swordsman better not be expecting perfect posture from him or anything. Thankfully, Tsuyoshi sits down in a loose sprawl, and makes it obvious he won’t be expecting Shamal to sit seiza unless he wants to. Which he does not, thank you very much. So he gingerly sits across from the swordsman at one of the pillows on the floor. Wondering if he is going to be expected to get up off his ass and go order drinks because the taller man obviously didn’t order any himself.

“Shouldn’t we have grabbed drinks? That was one of your stupid stipulations about this meeting.” Shamal aks, err well..more like demands to know, but whatever. He isn’t trying to woo the swordsman with his gentlemanly manners or anything. If Tsuyoshi can’t handle his normal caustic tongue then he can kindly fuck right off.

Tsuyoshi gives him a self satisfied little smirk and holds up a single finger in the universal sign of one moment. “Just wait.” Is all he says cryptically.  Shamal scowls and leans on the table, glaring at the man in front of him and waiting for whatever the insane man is expecting to happen.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“‘Yoshi!” Comes a feminine voice that barrels out of the crowd. Shamal sees alabaster skin, brilliant red hair, and immediately thinks _‘Oh shit!_ ’ as none other then Topaz Spider Tomoko appears like magic at the swordsman side, a pitcher of some sort of golden colored beer in her perfectly manicured hands. “You cheating bastard, congrats!”

Tsuyoshi just grins even brighter and makes grabby hands at the pitcher in the womans hold. “Thank you, Tomoko. I hope you ordered more than just this.” The red-haired woman rolls her eyes at him and turns to set the pitcher on the low table, which puts her eyes directly on Shamal’s frozen form.

Brown eyes meet green for a too long second.

“Trident Shamal!” She shrieks. And Shamal immediately has his hands in his coat pockets, mind rapidly going through what mosquitoes he has on hand. Fuck, of course of all the people to visit the bar tonight the woman that wants to skin him alive is the one Tsuyoshi knows. Fucking fucking fuck.

Instead of an attack though Tomoko grins at him in a way he hasn’t seen in years. The infamous Sun Dazzle smile that has lured a hundred men into her bed, and ninety-nine of them met their end there. It is blinding, and beautiful, and the entire reason he took his chances with the known blackwidow back in the day. Teeth perfectly white and framed by deliciously red painted lips that would look even better smeared and swollen after a few kisses.

He is broken out of the Dazzle - which wow, that stings his pride a bit because he actually fell for it _again_ even if it was only for a few seconds - when the Topaz Spider plops down on the pillow beside him and continues talking instead of trying to murder him.

“I can’t believe your kid was first, you dog. You are the absolute envy of the entire town right now.” Her tone is full of laughter, and Shamal can only watch as her manicured hands. With nails filed down to deceptively sharp points and painted a merry yellow. Reaches out to pluck a few cups from the stack of empty containers in the middle of the table. She pours three glasses of beer and slides one to Tsuyoshi - who takes it with a bright _‘Thanks!_ ’ -  and one to Shamal with her Dazzling grin still firmly in place. “Both of you are the worst, and congrats. I firmly expect you to be buying me drink soon too.”

“Oh?” Tsuyoshi says with a teasing grin. “You seem very sure about your boy’s chances.”

Tomoko sniffs haughtily and takes a sip of her beer before she replies. “Of course I am. Shoichi is a very desirable Sun, anyone can see the benefits of having my boy in the set. I’m sure the little Sky will make the best choice in the end.”

Shamal opens his mouth to mention the other Sun he’s noticed orbiting Hayato’s Sky, but a quick look from Tsuyoshi has him picking up his own beer to drink instead of commenting. Which is probably for the best, because the words he was about to say are stolen right out of his mouth by the appearance of another pair at their already crowded little table.

“Ha! Still on that Tomo-chan? My Ryohei is already practically settled in!” Comes Natsuka’s loud voice. The white haired woman is bouncing animatedly with a glass of her own firmly in hand, and very much in danger of sloshing all over the floor if she keeps it up. Ryouto is a silent shadow behind the tiny woman, but he is carrying another pitcher of beer for the table. Likely the drink Natsuka promised for him earlier. “You are going to be buying us a round next. Yeah!”

Natsuka and Tomoko bear sharp-toothed smiles at each other, and Shamal knows he is immediately in danger when the white-haired woman takes the open pillow-seat on the other side of him, Leaving him sandwiched between both woman. A position he usually would enjoy to the fullest. However one woman is married to a man who can snap him in half one handed. And the other one still likely desires his demise even as she smiles at him. He is not so sure he is okay with the way things are going at the moment.

Tomoko leans in towards Natsuka, which means she is leaning against Shamal - and the doctor tenses, readying himself to wrap a Mist-veil around himself and flee even as he appreciates the soft curve of her figure and the warmth of her breast on his arm.- Thankfully she doesn’t do anything overtly threatening. At least nothing like she did to Shamal when they met at the grocery store. There is no knife in her hands at least.

“Oh?” The red-haired woman purrs coyly. “I wasn’t aware your daughter and Yuuri-san’s girl approved. Your poor boy is so loyal you know, he would never go against their wishes and bind himself away from them. I’m glad the girls finally came to their senses Natsu-chan.”

Natsuka squawks like shes been slapped at the honeyed insult. “Tomo-chan, you bitch!” and Shamal starts to a panic a little as he feels two very different sets of Sun Flames flaring nova-bright around him.

Tomoko’s Sun is known to him, it feels deceptively soft and inviting. The first few rays of sunlight in the morning, It brushes against you just like the warmth of dawn. A dazzling display that has all eyes turning towards it. Her Sun seems to whisper _‘look at me, I’ve been gone so long. Didn’t you miss me?’_ as she draws you closer and closer. A trap that has helped the woman draw in the unsuspecting for years. Because just like the dawn, the longer you are enthralled at the beauty of her Sun the more likely you are to be blinded by it.

Natsuka is obviously the other Sun Flame, and her Flames could not feel more different from Tomoko’s unless she was a completely different spectrum. She is brilliant and blinding, nothing about her subtle or whispery like the red-head. She is full force, the sun at midday when all the world is in motion. Shamal can immediately tell her son takes after her. Her Flames are terrifyingly bright, but flare around her wildly, no care for the very real threat of Flame exhaustion in the way she clashes her Will against the Topaz Spider’s. She is all or nothing, and will burn everything around her away to win if she must.

The other thing that Shamal immediately notes, beside the obvious fact that he is sitting in between two Flame active woman on the cusp of catfighting, is both women’s eyes.

Tomoko’s emerald green eyes are wreathed in a soft canary yellow that glitters in the dim lights of the bar. While Natsuka’s chocolate brown eyes are ringed in a bright lemony color that makes her wide eyes look sharper somehow. But both have their Flames pulled tight to their skin, worn like a shroud for all to see if they bother looking at their table. Blatant in what they are and uncaring of any civilians that might be in the bar who could see them using their Flames.

Shamal hisses like a wet cat when he notices that fact, and flares out his own Mist Flame to cloak the table away from the prying eyes of the bar. For fucks sake, that is _all_ he needs right now. The Vindice of all people to show up to investigate people breaking omerta.

His action have the added effect of startling the two women, and they both turn to him in confusion instead of continuing to battle their wills against each other.

“Shamal?” Tomoko’s surprised question is softly spoken, as she is close enough to his ear she doesn’t need to speak up for him to hear. Tomoko casts her glittering gaze around the bar in confusion.“What has you cloaking the area all of a sudden?”

“You two of course.” He bites back, unaware of his own eyes burning indigo at the edges as he pushes to contain the dazzling sight of both women’s Flames. His nerves are already shot from everything that has happened today and he is shamefully unable to curb his acidic tongue as he dresses down the red-head for her idiocy. “I would have thought _you_ of all people would know to be careful, _Topaz Spider_. I, for one, am not dealing with the goddamn Vindice tonight.”

Natsuka snorts and relaxes on his left side immediately. “Is that all? Oh my gosh, you are so silly Shamal. No one is gonna get in trouble! Especially not with your weird Mafia police! We are settled now! Yeah!”

“Maa, now Natsuka…” Tsuyoshi’s voice suddenly breaks into the argument, his cheerful eyes bearing an edge Shamal can recognize in any seasoned killer. The one that speaks of healthy paranoia. “Shamal is right to be careful, we aren’t settled just yet. Our little Sky only just pulled in the boys tonight, and while I’m sure nothing will happen, lets not jump the gun either.” Tsuyoshi’s grin takes on an amused edge. “Though if Shamal wants to keep the Mist barrier up we could do Flame-shots.” The swordsman winks at Shamal - which makes the Mist-user hiss like a cat again - and taps the surface of his beer with one Rain Flame infused finger. His aqua blue Flames seep into the liquid and Shamal is frankly terrified at what drinking that would do to a non-Rain-user.

Tsuyoshi throws the rest of the beer back and seems completely unaffected by whatever he just did.

“I am not stupid Yamamoto-san.” Ryouto speaks up. “You are not making me pass out again.”

“Maaa, it's just a little battle of wills for fun. Come on Ryouto, live a little.”

“I will.” The giant man responds blandly. “I will continue to live as long as I don’t take Rain-shots.”

The mood at the table lightens at the banter, and Shamal allows his tight fisted grip on his Mist Flames to loosen. Releasing the barrier around them and letting them blend back into the rest of the bar’s customers, the indigo in his eyes sliding away in turn. Tomoko and Natsuka both pout - though they do so in very different ways - and release their hold on their own Flames. Letting the loud and dazzling sunshine sink back beneath their skin. Safely hidden from those who are ignorant of Flames and the underworld who might be visiting the bar.

“I still think it’s silly.” Natsuka grumbles loudly, pout firmly planted on her face. “Jin would let us know if a civvy was in the bar!”

“Mochida-san is very busy tonight dear, it is possible he may not notice in the crowd.” Ryouto placates his wife. Sliding her another glass full of amber colored beer and he smiles when she takes the drink with a huff. “It will not be much longer now, we have waited this long. What is a few weeks more?”

“Too long.” Tomoko mutters into her own beer before she takes a dainty sip. Tsuyoshi’s own smile seems a little grim even.

Shamal is confused as fuck.

“Tsuyoshi.” He finally says, at the end of his rope with this nonsense. “What the fuck are you guys talking about.”

All four of his companions at the table raise an eyebrow at him, and Shamal is going to strangle Tsuyoshi when this is over with. “You promised me answers you insane bastard.”

Tsuyoshi hums and leans on the table, his other hand absently pouring himself another glass of beer from one of the two pitchers in front of them. “I did.” He agrees willingly enough. “Not sure what you don’t know though. You must know something, considering you do the eye thing all the secluded do.”

The eye thing? Shamal furrows his brow in confusion, before jumping to the obvious answer. The ring of Flames in Tomoko and Natsuka’s eyes? He did that also? “I was...unaware I was doing that.” He admits, casting his mind back and unable to tell if he had somehow been mirroring the women when he noticed them doing it. Or if he’s been doing it all along and just never noticed. He felt no difference in his Flames. Well beside the slight strain of trying to quickly cloak such eye-catching Flames away when he had not been expecting it.

“Someone must have taught you.” Tomoko insists. “Westerners don’t do it normally.”

Shamal is startled enough by the question that he answers honestly. “Ah, Lavina - Hayato’s mother - taught us the trick of it before she passed.” He turns to scowl at the table. Damnation, has he been doing the eye-thing that long then? Surely someone would have mentioned it if he had been. Or he would have noticed it somehow. Though who would be around to mention it to him? It’s not like he has any particularly close friends to chat with who might mention that his eyeballs are the wrong color suddenly. His brats wouldn’t have mentioned it either when they were little, as he was the one who taught them the eye-thing in the first place. They probably would have just flashed their own scarlet or crimson ringed eyes back at him and gone back to playing.

Natsuka pats him on the shoulder commiseratingly, and Shamal is confused about why she is looking at him with big sad eyes now. He turns back to Tsuyoshi and is given another wry smile in return from the swordsman that confuses him further.

“So she wasn’t Japanese?” Tomoko asks, the only one at the table who doesn’t seem sad all of a sudden.

“Lavina?” Shamal cocks his head towards the red-head who is still closer to his side then is completely comfortable with. She could cut his carotid artery before he can so much as blink if she feels up to it with those sharp nails of hers. “No she was half-Japanese. From her mother’s side I think. She mentioned family in Hokkaido once.” He never did get to chat with the woman about herself overmuch, she always wanted to know about Hayato more than she wanted to focus on herself. How the brat was doing, what new milestones he’s reached, how he and his sister were getting along.

“Oh! Hokkaido! She musta been from Yukitsujima!” Natsuka pipes in excitedly. “That is where my Mom is from too! Yeah!” She claps Shamal on the shoulder again, this time much more excitedly. “Shoulda’ guessed considering your boys hair color. He’s got Yuki-genes for sure!”

“Dear, not everyone with white hair is from Yukitsujima.” Ryouto sighs, like this is a common argument between them. “There is more than one secluded city in Hokkaido that she could have come from.”

“But not one where everyone has white or silver hair! Those are Yuki-colors for sure! Yeah!”

Shamal lets the two back and forth for a moment. Only interested in the fact they are talking about a secluded city. Or more accurately, more than one secluded city located in Japan. Which Lavina must be related to somehow since those are the only people who do the weird eye thing.

Which, if only these secluded cities do the eye thing. And the eye thing is related to Flames...

Holy shit, there are _Flame-obscured cities_ in Japan.

The idea is mind boggling, Mafia Island is the only thing he can think of that comes close to the idea, and that was an insane undertaking to create it. The Mist barriers and wards on the island that keep it unnoticed by the world at large requires a frankly stupid amount of power to keep going. He would know, he was paid a very hefty sum to help shore up part of the barrier as it began degrading from neglect. No Mist outside of Mammon from the Varia is powerful enough to hold the barrier indefinitely. And no way is that miser doing it without draining the island dry of funds.

He had joked in his own mind earlier about running away with his brats to a tropical mist-obscured island, but he hadn’t thought it was an actual doable thing. He could obscure himself and around half a dozen people no problem. But that was people. Not a city.

“Cities?” He could be jumping to conclusions here, so it's best to ask. “Flame-obscured cities. Like Mafia island?”

Tsuyoshi snorts into his beer. “Yeah, something like that.” He grins, and Shamal is not only going to strangle the swordsman. He is going to feed the idiot to his own cursed-sword. “It’s different than Mafia island though. Less draining Mist users to the bone to keep things hidden, and more uhh...natural.” Tsuyoshi shrugs slightly. “Not completely sure how it works honestly, my wife tried explaining it to me once and it went right over my head. Mist stuff is always mumbo-jumbo to me. All I understood was It doesn’t wipe a city off the map or anything, just kinda bends the edges around the town so people slip by without looking twice. Some secluded cities are more hidden away than others, but I really don’t understand how the difference works.”

Ryouto is the one who sees that Shamal is just becoming more confused as the Rain continues to talk. He sighs and puts his own glass of beer down on the table before he butts in. “Obviously Lavina-san didn’t tell you much, Shamal-san.” He looks down at the table, as if in apology for some reason before pushing on. “If you would like, I can explain what I know. Personally, I was not born in a secluded city like my wife was, but I lived in one long enough that I am comfortable with answering most questions about them.”

Shamal can not believe that of all the people at the table, the father of the loudest Sun in Namimori is the sensible one.

“Hey!” Tsuyoshi protests. “I promised I would answer his questions.” Shamal is surprised that there is an actual scowl on Tsuyoshi’s face for a moment. Like he is legitimately upset at the giant man for jumping in on their conversation. Ryouto holds up his hands in surrender for a moment, but doesn’t rescind the offer.

Shamal chooses to ignore the ominous rattle that comes from the Muramasa blade innocently laying on the floor beside the swordsman. Nope. Didn’t see it. Didn’t happen.

“Okay then, let's start with the basic. Pretend I know absolutely nothing about anything, and go.” Shamal flicks his hand towards Tsuyoshi, mostly because he’s afraid if he chooses Ryouto the fucking sword might move again. That shit is creepy, okay?

Tsuyoshi is all smiles again and he focuses back on Shamal gamely enough. “Maa...Let’s see, I guess we can start with Flame basics.” He nods to himself and gets comfortable, beer in hand. “Okay so, In Japan, China, and Korea Flames are treated differently than they are in the western half of the world. They are not considered only weapons, but also inherit parts of people. Unlike in the Mafia where Flames are meant to be unseen except in certain circumstances due to Omerta. Here in Japan it is considered shameful to hide away what you are.”

“Especially when you first meet someone!” Natsuka jumps in loudly, blissfully ignorant of Tsuyoshi’s annoyed glance her way. “That is like, the super rudest thing you can do! Always show your true colors! That’s what my Mom told us! Yeah!”

“Maa, yes. We will get to that.” The Muramasa blade rattles again, and Ryouto saves his wife from earning any more of the man’s ire by refilling her glass. Which Natsuka eagerly brings the frothy beverage up to her lips, cutting off any tangent she was about to say.

Shamal raises an eyebrow, and Tsuyoshi turns back to him. Smile back in place and blade thankfully not vibrating in hunger. “So, since people are allowed to indulge more in the use of their Flames here than abroad, a lot of the instinctual parts that are looked down on by the Mafia are pretty common here. Encouraged even in most cases. A good Rain should fixate on what makes them happy. A Lightning can obsess over keeping their loved ones safe. A Storm is free to frenzy over their Sky or children. Things like that.”

“Buh-but!” Shamal stammers immediately. Painfully reminded of the fact that Tsuyoshi’s own son is apparently suffering from Rain Fixation.“That is stupidly dangerous! There is medical documentation that proves those things have damaging effects on the psyche long term. Frenzy and Fixation especially! You can’t expect me to believe that level of self destructive behavior is actually encouraged over here? Not when a Hyper-Fixated Rain can become a very real threat to their fellow guardians!”

Tsuyoshi takes a long drink of his beer, _veeeery_ slowly. All of them do actually. Each one of them looking away and sipping beer like it is ambrosia.

And as the silence continues to build around the table, Shamal comes to a very, _very_ unwanted conclusion.

“Oh my god.” He mutters. “You are all…”

“It’s not inherently a bad thing, Shamal-san.” Ryouto quietly defends them. “We have these instincts for a reason, and when they are _properly_ directed it is little more than a compulsion to do what we enjoy most anyways. I would not say I am any more obsessed with keeping my family safe than any other man. I merely have extra instincts to guide me to do it better than others. I understand that an ungrounded Lightning can become impulsive and self destructive. But so can anyone who is held at arm's length from the one they desperately desire to protect.”

Shamal is only mildly surprised that the man is apparently a Lightning. He is certainly one of the most mellow Lightnings Shamal has ever met. A far cry for the eccentric personalities they are known for in Italy.

“And you don’t have any room to talk, you dog.” Tomoko grumbles from his side. “You are not subtle. The micromanaging, the Mist wards around town, the drones following your kids everywhere? If you don’t have Mist Possession I’ll eat my favorite knife. I saw it as soon as we met at the grocery store. It was the only reason I believed you about your daughter honestly.”

Tsuyoshi, the absolute bastard that he is, nods in agreeance. “You did follow Takeshi home just because he was hanging out with your boy, Shamal. And then fought me to a stand-still just to make sure I wasn’t going to hurt him. Ameshishi-giri even likes you, and that is impressive enough as is.”

Shamal looks at the swordsman for a minutes in confusion of what he is talking about, prompting Tsuyoshi to jerk his head towards his sword. The Muramasa blade is apparently named Ameshishi-giri, and Shamal does not want to know why the sword is called _Rain-Slayer_. Not even an itty bitty little bit.

Mostly he is in shock though. Has he really been acting on Mist Possession this whole time? Is that what its been for the last almost fifteen years driving him on? Nothing but a compulsion from his own Flames to covet those two hellions? Not affection, or ( _he won't say_ ** _love_** _,_ _he won't.)_ care? Just some damned mind-altering effect of his own fucking Flames that drove him to want them? He is a medical professional, shouldn’t he have seen the symptoms?

Shamal is shaken out of his fugue by someone nudging him under the table, and he knows immediately it's Tsuyoshi. The sushi-chef's smile is a touch nervous, obviously unsure how to handle the meltdown he is watching unfold. “Maa...You’re thinking too hard Shamal, I can see the smoke.” He jokes.

Ryouto nods from across the table. “Westerners fear their Flame instincts because they think it changes them.” The giant doesn’t sugarcoat his words with jokes like Tsuyoshi. “That is what you are afraid of, yes? That you only love your children because your Mist Flame tells you too?” Shamal makes a wheezing noise in answer, because Ryouto said the _L-word_ and he isn’t mentally equipped to handle all this all being dropped on him suddenly, let alone someone casually dropping the forbidden word. “But that isn’t true Shamal-san. Your instincts are only there because you already cared for them. Correlation is not causation. You care for them, and therefore your Mist finds ways to be useful in that endeavour. It does not force you to feel things you don’t already feel.”

Natsuka pats him on the shoulder for the umpteenth time. “It’s a good thing Shamal! Everyone in town was super nervous when you showed up, ‘cause your a weird gaijin ya’know! But you fit in just fine! Even Lin and Kotaro like you, and the Hibari clan don’t like anyone! When everything settles down and we’re properly secluded away you’ll see! There's nothing scary about it! Yeah!”

Tomoko rolls her eyes at the white-haired woman. “Tell me Natsu-chan, does the sledgehammer approach work with your children this well? Why not tell him Kotaro-san is watching us right now while you’re at it? I’m sure that will be _just_ as reassuring.”

Natsuka squawks “Tomo-chan, you bitch!” again in offence and the pair of Sun Flames return to glowering at each other. But this time Shamal is too stuck in his own thoughts to worry over the women on either side of him.

“ _Who.._ ” Shamal hisses at Tsuyoshi while the girls fight on. “...Is Kotaro!?”

Tsuyoshi just waves his hand dismissively. “You’ve met the Hibari boy, right? I mean you work at the school so I don’t know how you could have missed him.” Shamal nods sharply, because he is very aware of the little Cloud demon’s existence. He is the usual cause of any injuries he has to deal with during work hours. “Hibari Kotaro is his father. He runs the police department, and the local Yakuza on the side. He personally vetts most people who show up to Namimori to make sure they won't disturb the Skies here. He is very.. _.invested_ in the city being properly settled.”

Shamal jerks back slightly. “Skies?” He asks immediately, latching onto the one part. “There is more than just the one?”

All the people at the table look amongst each other, and by some unspoken consensus Natsuka is the one elected to speak.

“There was a rumor a long time ago.” She starts, oddly muted. “Back when I lived at home in Tonbomaru. There was apparently a Sky that had just up and left her family's home. It probably doesn’t sound crazy to you, but it was! A seclusion born Sky willingly leaving their home is almost unheard of, it happens maybe once a generation, if that! And she left home _without_ companions. So even crazier, yeah!” Natsuka takes a fortifying sip of her drink before continuing on. But Tomoko picks up the story instead, ignoring the white-haired woman’s shouts of annoyance at being cut off.

“The only reason a Sky fans out from seclusion here in Japan is if they are looking to settle a new area because their old one is becoming too crowded. And well...Somehow she ended up here. In boring Namimori. Which no one is quite sure why of all places she would have chosen here, it is already pretty well established as a civilian city and the only thing going for the town is the fact the Hibari practically own it.”

“Yeah!” Natsuka cuts back in. “Exactly! The Hibari own Namimori! So it makes sense if she was trying to catch Kotaro’s attention that she would come here. What Sky _wouldn’t_ want him? He’s the strongest Cloud in Japan after all!”

“For now.” Tsuyoshi says with a amused lilt. “That boy of his is going to be a monster in a few years. And that's if Kyoya-kun doesn’t end up being pulled into our little Sky’s grasp sooner rather than later. The boost to his strength might be enough to put him on level with his father if he is.”

There is a shiver of dread from the whole table at the idea.

“Back on our main subject,” Ryouto moves them back to the main topic at hand. “This Sky was rumored to be fragile when she arrived. So Hibari-san made it a decree that only the strongest would be allowed to remain in Namimori at her side, and opened the doors to anyone who wanted a chance to be in Namimori before it became properly settled and secluded. There was even the chance that some people could be chosen to be her companions, since she was without any. There wasn’t really a downside if you managed to make it through the vetting procedure.” Shamal blinks at that, there was a vetting procedure? He doesn’t remember any vetting being done. Well except maybe nearly getting beaten to death by Hibari Lin. Did that count? “The only stipulation was that anyone who was in the city would need to make themselves useful and keep the economy up and running. _And_ be willing to give up whatever life and connections you had outside of Namimori.” Ryouto nods his head slightly. “It was a very agreeable deal for those looking for a way out of the underworld. Especially if they had children, as Eastern Skies are known for their fondness and protective streak towards children.”

“A lot of secluded cities sent people too!” Natsuka butts back in after her husband trails off. “My family in Tonbomaru even held a tournament to see who would be lucky enough to come! Which I totally won, yeah!” She strikes a pose to show off the muscles in her arms, and even though she isn’t a solid wall of muscle like her husband. She has more muscle definition than Shamal was expecting. Certainly more than he has. “So Ryouto, Ryohei, and I earned the right to move here! I was really pumped to meet her!”

“We all wanted to meet her.” Tomoko huffs, a sad edge to her airy voice. “But she just seemed to disappear after a few years. All traces of her Flames vanished one day, like she had never been here at all.”

“My wife insisted she met her once.” Tsuyoshi muses grimly, eyes intent on his cup. “Swore up and down it was the mother of the little Sky Takeshi fell for. But I’ve met Nana-san a few times and there are no Flames on that woman.”

Shamal blinks at Tsuyoshi in surprise at the turn in the conversation. “Sawada Nana?” He asks, just to make sure he is following along with the conversation and that they are talking about the Vongola’s mother.

Tsuyoshi nods in agreeance and Shamal makes a flabbergasted face at the man. Because honestly!

“Of course there aren’t Flames on her, you idiot!” He can’t help but reprimand the man. How ignorant could the bastard possibly be? “She has _Sky-Sickness_ you unmitigated asshole. Anyone with half a brain can see that. You don’t need a doctorate to know that woman was ripped to shreds by someone. I’ve only seen her at a distance _once_ and I could figure it out in 30 seconds, it's that obvious.”

There is deathly silence at the table. Tsuyoshi, Ryouto, and Tomoko all look like he just bitch slapped them and Natsuka is blatantly confused at his side. Which is probably why the white-haired woman is the one to break the silence. Poking Shamal in his arm and asking in the quietest voice she’s used all night. “Hey...what is Sky-Sickness, Shamal?”

Ryouto chokes on air, prompting Shamal to shoot him a questioning look. But the man just shakes his head and then nods slightly towards his wife. Asking him to explain to her. Tomoko’s mouth is opening and closing slowly in what looks to be mounting horror, and Tsuyoshi?

Shamal quickly turns back to Natsuka, not wanting to see the man’s dark eyes and shaking shoulders - or Ameshishi-giri beginning to vibrant furiously on the floor beside him. He can almost feel the hunger building in the blade from the other side of the table. The killing intent leaking from both swordsman and sword that is quickly becoming stifling in the crowded bar.

“Sky-sickness is the layman's term for _Distal Caelumlysis_ . Which is the actual medical terminology for the disease. I would roughly translates it as ‘Sky destruction from a distance’ if I had to break the name down.” He slips into his ‘teaching’ voice without notice as he sits up and begins explaining. “Sky aligned Flames are well known for their charismatic draw on others Flames of the spectrum. Considering they are the natural Harmonizing factor for other Flame-types this makes sense on the surface. When any Flame takes on the position of Guardian for a Sky both people benefit. They grow stronger, and their Flames can awaken other gifts. Like immunity to electricity is fairly common for Lightnings once they harmonize with a Sky. The boost in Flame output is the most noticeable in Skies though. With each Guardian they are boosted individually, unlike the other Flames which only receive a strength increase the once.” 

Natsuka’s big brown eyes are trained on him, confused and still slightly tipsy. But Shamal can tell she is rapidly sobering up thanks to an internal use of her Sun Flames to help her metabolize the alcohol in her system. “Skies don’t share their strength with the rest of their Own?” She asks, aghast.

Shamal is about to nod in agreeance when Tomoko cuts in from the doctor’s other side. “Western Skies do not.” She spits furiously. “They only care about becoming stronger and fighting with each other over money.”

The doctor has to concede that point. He isn’t sure what could possibly be different between western and eastern Skies about this ‘sharing power’ bit. But he is starting to get a clearer picture that there are some very serious differences between Skies here and abroad. “It isn’t just money. Usually it’s territory disputes, other up-and-coming famiglia wanting a piece of another Sky’s business opportunities. Things like weapons, drugs, or the skin-trade are often fought over.”

Natsuka’s eyes don’t look surprised until he gets to the bit of the skin-trade, and then she shoots her husband a shocked look. Ryouto returns the look with only a grim frown and purposely taking a sip of his drink so he doesn’t have to comment. Shamal puts away that apperently weapons and drugs are fine to the white-haired woman, but not prostitution and slavery.

“However -” he continues once Natsuka returns her darkened chocolate eyes to him. “It is because of this tendency to war amongst themselves that some Skies are willing to go the extra mile and not only get boosts of power by harmonizing with their own elements, but they go out of their way to force harmony on other Flames. Typically by abusing their Sky charisma to draw the other person’s Flames in willingly, than severing the connection between them once the Sky is boosted in strength.”

Natsuka lets out a horrified gasp, and covers her mouth in disbelief. And Shamal can tell this is upsetting her, so he decides to wrap this up fast despite how complex the issue really is in practice. “Since it is not an even trade off only the Sky forcing the Harmony gains anything from this exchange. The other Flame-user….well. _Some_ Skies leave behind a little bit of the person’s Flames, but that is rare. More often if a Sky is already willing to take what they want from other Flames, well...they take it all. Leaving the other person as void as any civilian and usually mentally compromised.”

“Compromised how?” She asks, painfully hesitant as she obviously doesn’t really want the answer. But she is a grown woman, and Shamal won’t sugar-coat the facts if it's about medicine.

“People with Sky-Sickness are easily influenced by anyone with Flames. They have no Will left to resist even the weakest Flame-users and are forced to comply to their demands. Often without really understanding what they are doing as their compromised mental state is known for causing memory lapses. In extreme cases it can also leave them unable to care for themselves or others, or sluggish to do so without being directly ordered.” Shamal looks away from the white-haired woman when he finally drops the final bit of knowledge. “However, more often than not it simply leaves them without the Will to Live, and they waste away slowly.”

“And...and someone in town. Th-the mother of Ryohei’s little Sky. That happened to her?!” Natsuka chokes, looking ill.

Shamal doesn’t bother to nod, just sets his lips in a tight frown and looks down.

He warned both his hellions away from Skies for the very reason he is talking about. Both of them were volatile Storms. Strong, and willful, and breathtakingly bright to anyone who bothered to look twice. It is the stuff of his _nightmares_ to see his hot-headed brat or darling Bianchi dead-eyed and devoid of life. Robots enthralled to some greedy Don who lived by gorging on the strength of others.

“Is there a way to fix it!?” She demands, one of her hands fisting into the cloth of his dark grey jacket. “Can we help her?!”

“Oh, we can help…” Tsuyoshi’s voice is an ominous hiss, and Shamal doesn’t think he is imagining the extra lilt to the swordsman voice. An underlining unearthly timber that causes a shiver to run down his spine. “There is one _very easy_ way to fix this.”

Natsuka turns to the swordsman with over-bright eyes. “How?”

Tsuyoshi’s fierce look should make it obvious what the answer is, but Shamal is surprised that it ends up being Ryouto who has to spell it out plainly for his wife. “The easiest way to heal someone of Sky-Sickness is rumored to be...ending the Sky that stole the Flames from them in the first place.”

“Kill them.” Natsuka clarifies blankly. “You gotta kill them, yeah?”

Tomoko snorts and shuffles just that little bit closer to Shamal. As if taking comfort from him, though the idea is pointedly laughable to the Mist. She is likely moving into the perfect position to finally strike if he is being honest. “It is no less than they deserve if they have fallen so low.” The venom in her voice is almost lethal for all that she still seems shaken by the idea that someone in town is suffering from Sky-Sickness.

“It isn’t the only way.” Shamal adds after shuffling slightly in his seat, positioning his right arm so that it is better able to get into his coat pocket if he needs to let out a mosquito to quickly halt the Topaz Spider from going for his throat. “Some people are able to begin recovery if in constant contact with a similar Flame type. Preferably of a family member if available, as the similarity and previous connection is known to bolster Flame production minutely. It is slow going though...And not a guaranteed recovery if the initial damage is too sever.”

Shamal feels the moment something in Tsuyoshi snaps while he is speaking, the mention of severe damage apparently one mention too far for the man. The swordsman’s roaring typhoon of Rain escapes his grasp between the space of one breath and the next. Flaring heavy and oppressive around the immediate area.

His Flames are ocean deep. Clawing and dragging everything around him into a forced stillness that Shamal can safely say is the most _terrifying_ Tranquility he has ever been privy to. The Flames around the table are like the pressure found deep below the water in the inky trenches of the earth. Hidden away where everything is cool, and dark, and full of monsters lurking in the abyss. The song is heavy, and Shamal hears it call out with deceptive gentleness. A softness that Shamal can’t quite tell if it is the truth, or just another layer of Tsuyoshi’s forceful Tranquility. It whispers calmly as the Flames settle like a smothering blanket over them. Murmuring, _‘All is well, I’ll keep us safe, stay, stay’_ . And urges his own rebelling Mist to settle down and stop fighting. Pleads quietly to be allowed to keep him safe. And to do _that_ he needs to stop fighting the urge to rest so hard. Let himself be hid away somewhere quiet and dark, and only come out when the coast is clear.

However, there is another layer to the song. One that is made up of glass shattering, and gale winds, and the hungry rumble of something far away that grows closer the longer Tsuyoshi’s Flames escape his leash. The other note is so off putting that Shamal can fight off the swell of Tsuyoshi’s overwhelming song. As fear, pure and simple, wells from his gut and keeps him from falling into the weight of the Rain Flames urging him to sleep. The two different melodies of Tsuyoshi’s Flames are discordant with each other, but both are loud, and both are _angry_.

And just as quick as it happens, the pressure dissipates like a popped bubble. Dragged back under the Swordsman’ skin and hidden away again from the rest of the table, all of whom had frozen like statues under the mixture of Tsuyoshi’s Flames and killer intent when the dam burst.

“Maaa...Sorry about that,” He says with only the barest hint of contriteness in his voice. He seems blissfully ignorant of Shamal’s weary glare. And Shamal won’t confront him about it just yet, despite how he feels winded, and tired, and plain _furious_ over the sudden assault on his senses. “I’ll keep a tighter grip while we’re here. My bad.”

“I think it’s time to call the topic quits if you are losing control, Yamamoto-san.” Ryouto disagrees immediately. “And I think we all having something to think about now…”

“Yeah!” Natsuka pipes in, face chalk-white from Tsuyoshi’s Flames but also oddly fired up despite the obvious unease hanging around her. “Like figuring out who coulda’ done that to the mother of my son’s Sky!”

“Potential Sky.” Tomoko reminds her almost absently. Her heart not really in the dig at the other Sun’s expense. “But I agree wholeheartedly, something like this shouldn’t have happened. Even if she _isn’t_ the Sky we were all chasing, the fact someone in town was assaulted by a fallen Sky is still unacceptable. I think we should ask Kotaro-san what he knows. The Hibari would have noticed something like this, I’m sure.”

Tsuyoshi huffs at the direction the conversation is going, but Ryouto is the one who shuts it down for him. “Hibari-san is unlikely to speak with us tonight at least. Let us put the subject to bed for now. It does us no good to plot potential murder without an idea of who we are targeting.”

“Ryouto!” Natsuka whines immediately.

Ryouto shakes his head and starts to pull himself to his feet. “No Natsuka, let's go home for now dear. I...I want to check on the children. Please?” It is the first time since Shamal met the man that part of his placid demeanor cracks. Showing his hidden worry over their two children all alone at home, and how deeply affected he actually is by the idea of a fallen Sky prowling the town. One that is apparently snatching up the Flames of the unsuspecting.

Natsuka melts at the plea immediately and bounces to her feet without complaint, “Of course! Let’s go home! I bet they’re still awake right now even! Yeah!” She pats Shamal on the shoulder one more time, and he is probably going to have a bruise on his left side from the force of her enthusiasm. “It was awesome to meet you Shamal! Next time we will drink for real, yeah! I’ll put you under the table for sure!” and the two of them don’t wait longer than it takes to bow in farewell before they all but run to the door of the bar.

Tomoko sighs softly from his right and slowly untangles from where she has been all but glued to his side. “I think I’ll retire too. I...I also want to check on Shoichi and Akiko. But don’t be a stranger Shamal.” She shoots him a blatantly fake smirk that masks her own unease with the situation. “After all, my boy is going to be spending a lot of time with yours soon, we should build up a good relationship. Don’t you think?” Her purr is smooth as silk, and if it had been any other woman on the face of the earth he would have jumped at the opportunity to _‘build a good relationship’_ in the most physical sense possible with the beautiful redhead.

As it is, he does not have a death wish at the moment.

“Of course, I’m sure I’ll see you around town. Though next time maybe don’t try to stab me in the check out line?” Her laugh is delighted, like he is telling a joke and not asking - _100% seriously_ \- about not getting stabbed by the Topaz Spider the next time they meet at the grocery store.

“We will see, yeah? Some sales at the Lucky Mart are worth getting a little violent over you know.” She grins back, and gracefully stands up as well. “Call me next time you want to meet up ‘Yoshi. You know I’m usually free.” And with that she saunters away, her hips swaying just enough to draw the attention of just about every red-blooded human in the bar to her deliciously long legs and shapely ass.

Both he and Tsuyoshi watch the little show she makes as she leaves, though Shamal thinks Tsuyoshi looks more amused by the scene than Dazzled by it.

“Are you going to run away now too?” Tsuyoshi asks now that they are alone at the table. His smile is that same wryly amused one from before. The one with slightly too many teeth on display to be comforting. The question is not amused though. More self-deprecating than anything if he had to give the tone a name. Tsuyoshi is obviously aware that part of the reason for the rapid clearing of their table lies in his lapse in control.

Shamal isn’t sure what possesses him, but he will claim it is _pure stupidity_ that drives him to pick up his beer and snort at the swordsman dismissively. “As if. Two lovely ladies bought me drinks you insane man. It would be sin to let them go to waste, so no. I’ll leave when I’m damn well done with my beer and not a moment before.”

He refuses to acknowledge how Tsuyoshi’s shoulders loose some of their tenseness at his words, and how that wry grin morphs into something closer to real. “Of course, of course. My bad.” He snickers, reaching out towards the half-full picher Tomoko had originally bought them. “We can’t waste good beer now can we?”

“No beer is actually good.” Shamal argues, even as he holds out his glass for a refill. “Wine is infinitely superior I’ll have you know. And none of this rice wine nonsense, I mean a good Italian rosso. Preferably an Amarone”

Tsuyoshi makes a noise of protest at the words. “Hey now, this beer is locally made. And rice wine is great if you actually give it half a chance instead of comparing it to your overly sweetened grape juice.” but the swordsman gamely pours some of the amber liquid into Shamal’s cup even as he argues back.

Now it is Shamal’s turn to squawk in outrage. “How dare you!” He hisses, but once he catches the amused glint in Tsuyoshi’s eyes he feel his own will to fight about the superiority of his homeland’s drink fade. The man is purposely trying to rile him up again, and he won’t give the swordsman the pleasure. “Hrumph, agree to disagree than.” He takes another sip of his beer and feels kind enough to compromise on at least one thing. “The beer is...better than some i've had. It is drinkable I suppose. Unlike your ethanol disguised as wine.”

Tsuyoshi’s offended noise is infinitely better than the beer.

The swordsman pours his own cup to full, and settles forward, leaning on the table.

“Hey Shamal?” He asks suddenly after a long moment of silence between them..

The doctor makes a noise of acknowledgement behind his glass as he quickly swallows the beer inside. The drink is starting to warm up from sitting around so long, and he _hates_ warm beer more than he hates some of his enemies. 

“You know who this Sky is that hurt Nana-san, don’t you?”

Shamal chokes on his beer immedialy. And has to pound his chest to be able to breath without pain again when it all goes down the wrong pipe. “Wh-what?”

Tsuyoshi’s eyes are not exactly comforting, but they are not accusing either. Merely...waiting for an answer.

Shamal sighs and looks at the table so he doesn’t feel like a bug being pinned by the taller man’s eyes. “I have...a good idea who it might have been. Or, two ideas who it could have been, neither are good.”

“Not good for them, or for us?” Tsuyoshi asks. And isn’t that a kick in the ass? The casual inclusion of Shamal in his words. The swordsman already assumes he is on the town’s side in whatever conflict is going to happen here. It is no longer him on his own now. As without his consent it seems his _‘me’_ has suddenly become an _‘us’_ out of the blue.

“Us.” Shamal mumbles in return, fiddling with the lip of his glass as he tests out the inclusive word. It feels...good to use. “I don’t know how we could potentially kill the head of the CEDEF or Vongola Nono without incurring the wrath of at least half of Europe.”

“Oh…” Tsuyoshi makes a concerned face. “That actually is a pretty tall order. Damn…”

“Yeah…” Shamal mutters, bringing his too warm drink back to his lips. “Damn indeed…”

They spend the rest of the night slowly nursing drinks between them. And when Shamal finally can’t stand to order another round of overly malty tasting beer, he goes to make his way home. Only a few token protests on his tongue as Tsuyoshi immediately joins him to walk him back to his apartment. And while the idea that the swordsman will know where he lives rankles at him. The insane bastard would probably have just tailed him from a distance if he put up any real fight about it, so he decides to pick his battles and magnanimously lets the man walk with him.

  
It has nothing to do with the faint brush of heavy rain along his senses that whispers _‘I’ll keep us safe, yours and mine’_ deceptively gentle beside him the whole way home _._ Nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Hey, lets introduce all the parents so we can skip doing that later. It'll save me time and I can go back to the kids for a long while instead of swapping back and forth.  
> Me, 100000000000 years later: I have made 1(one) mistake.
> 
> Gosh there is so much stupid head-cannon in this chapter, and so many skipped over plot points so you all can continue to yell at me about discrepancies in the comments. (As if I know what the heck is going on any better then you guys do.) I also cut over 3k from this chapter cause it was mostly background nonsense, but I kinda wish I kept the some of the shippy bits in (eyebrow wriggle).
> 
> And before you asks my friends, oh yes, we will meet the Tiger of Japan, Hibari Kotaro eventually. But not for a while yet, gotta get to my demon-child first. His daddy knows too much for me to go jumping to the good bits.
> 
> THIS THING IS MOSTLY UNEDITED, PLEASE LET ME KNOW ABOUT ERRORS. It's 10k guys, help me. I have nothing but old Vines and ice-cream to keep me going reread after reread.
> 
> In the next chapter; Ryohei wonders what has got his parents all worked up. Eats some cake against his will. And has people cat fight over him. He is EXTREMELY confused!


End file.
